#a different aesthetic for every season

[seraph5]

Ive added S5 Arthur to my Arthur line up and I’m having a ball honestly I feel like I gotta do at least a half body shot of this fit. Its about *pinches fingers* the finery. Also I bet Arthur is missing pomade in medieval England that hair will simply be falling in his face.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[july-19th-club]

seven or eight times now ive watched the episodes in which they take the andromache and this is the first time ive realized that during the initial battle, after they board, every time the camera is from dufresne's perspective it's blurrier than otherwise because. he took his glasses off for the fight

[1427]

not me googling what whump means bc I still haven't been able to parse it from context clues

[blujayonthewing]

accidentally getting into mixology is dangerous for the kind of person who uses different specific drinkware for coffee vs tea vs GREEN tea and who has a glass she informally but insistently thinks of as The Milk Glass

[dejablonde]

[lookingfts]

Kate has always been beautiful. But I'm still so obsessed with the way her look changes. The loosening of the hair and the softening of her clothes are not just aesthetic; they represent Kate embracing herself.

Season 2 Kate had resigned herself to being a spinster and dimmed her light at every opportunity to shine it on Edwina instead. She played up to society's expectations of her and downplayed her beauty to not draw too much attention to herself.

Season 3 Kate is the most beautiful woman in every room, and she is totally comfortable with it. Her confidence is through the roof, and she is secure enough to be both a force of nature and a softer, more vulnerable version of herself. Her clothing isn't armor or camouflage. She's celebrating her beauty and letting herself be loved, cherished, and respected by her family and others.

Anthony's affection/obsession has given her a safe space to embrace her full beauty and power. He shines all his light on her - it's clear that Kate is the most popular and most influential Bridgerton, and Anthony does nothing but actively encourage that.

Kate literally looks like a different woman in season 3, and it makes me beyond happy for her.

[milkypiggybeans]

Wild Life character designs!! These are inspired by 1940s-50s casino wear :D Some design notes under the cut!

- Each team has their own casino-themed motif, which are, in order of appearance above, slot machine icons, card suits, poker chips, coins, 8-balls, and dice. I did not look up the meanings of the card suits, they were chosen based off vibes and aesthetics. BigB does not have any of these motifs, though I may give him some sort of joker theming if he more definitively joins the final girls in the future!

- Bdubs and Cleo have been inconsistent with their skins so both of their designs are a sort of hybrid between their default skins and their life series skins, with Cleo’s being more heavily leaning toward her default skin because the color palette is easier to adapt.

- These outfits are based on 1940s-50s casino wear, as these decades signified the rise of Las Vegas, Hollywood glamour, and a post-Great Depression economy, which fits in nicely with the wild cards and logo of this season. Not every outfit is perfectly accurate to the setting, as I preferred to give them unique designs rather than giving them all different colors of the same suit. Some of the outfits I designed for an earlier decade before I realized Vegas only really got big in the 50s, and I did not modernize most of them so forgive me if some of them look a little too 30s (Etho I kept 30s on purpose bc I think being outdated suits him). and if you know a lot about 1940s-50s fashion please don’t kill me for any inaccuracies i tried my best! special shout out to derek guy (menswear guy on twitter) as his account has taught me so much about proper fitting of suits and these designs would not have come out nearly as good without him

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

There is something I absolutely loathe about fashion content on the whole.

"What is your color season? Buy a whole new wardrobe." - I assure you that I am not throwing out perfectly good things I already have.

"Find your aesthetic and build a whole wardrobe around it" - again, this involves getting rid of things and buying new ones.

"Instead of buying this sweater, buy one that is pure wool." - I have news for you about how affordable pure wool is.

"Just go thrifting!" - Thrifting is not the gold mine that people seem to think it is. A lot of influencers are getting lucky because they live in cities where there is a relatively high turnover of stock at the thrift store. My average thrift store visit ends with me buying one or two things that 1. I like. 2. Are reasonably priced for the condition they're in. 3. Are actually my size.

If I had to sum up my irritation with this, it's that a lot of fashion content (and interior design from what I've seen) is that it is built on the idea that your life should have a unified aesthetic. But I would wager that most people have pieces and parts of different aesthetics cobbled together across different periods of their life. And there's nothing wrong with that. You don't have to start over every time your "aesthetic" shifts a bit.

[pedrospatch]

run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line. 

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess��”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

[rafeyybabyy]

max verstappen // mv1 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

fluorescent - @scuderiahoney

“motorsport is a dog eat dog world, and you know that better than most. it’s not often you meet someone who understands, who shines a light on all the darkness, but max might just be the perfect person for it”

first loser - @itsgodepi

“in the wake of a disastrous race, you're caught under the media's unforgiving glare. your every move and word being dissected for days on end as you simply try to navigate your rookie year in formula one. It is just your luck that your opponent in this fiasco is none other than the famously outspoken max verstappen, whose relentless jabs only add to your frustrations”

zandvoort, nl - @frogstappen

“you watch max's home race from the red bull garage”

a different light - @userlando

"you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend)"

coming of age - @keerysfreckles

“in which a silly bet between the two redbull drivers becomes a reality when y/n wins the first race of the 2024 season”

tying you to me - @pierregazly

“[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you)”

denial is a man’s best friend - @marlenesluv

“ y/n and max have been friends since karting years, and now? now, they’re teammates at redbull. they are one of the best teammate duos in the grid, but what happens when max catches feelings?…or when everyone but them notices they are in love but themselves”

baby steps - @forteafy

“you've always been mercedes golden girl; your life and career have been set out in stone. all it takes is for your ultimate rival to change that all”

pick you up - @scuderiahoney

“when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls”

temptations - @no-144444

“you and max are on break and things get out of hand. nothing like tmz to mess things up, right?”

never an interruption- @fastandcarlos

“you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life”

little big fan - @thef1diary

“your daughter runs off while you were in the middle of grocery shopping because she spotted max, her favourite driver. meeting you, max wants to know everything about you and your six year old. so of course he finds excuses to keep meeting you, starting with inviting you to the dutch grand prix”

series

rule breaker series - @coff33andb00ks

“max has it all...right? besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. until... you moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles”

smau

yuck! series - @maxlarens - smau

“your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear”

won gold - @maxverstappendefender - smau

“olympic snowboarder!gf x mv1 (max being a complete simp for someone that doesn’t even know him)”

miami baby - @norrisainz33 - smau

“actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush”

worlds biggest fan - @astonmartinii - smau

“y/n is the president of the official max verstappen fan club, but nothing can come of that, right?”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

[keisobe]

── ౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧)

・⸝⸝ some hobie brown headcanons where you’re the complete opposite of him + not completely proofread

notes. this was inspired by the anon who requested for “polar opposites” (i’m still working on that request TT). i’m a sucker for couples with different aesthetics because it reminds me of hachi and nana hshshddh ♡

you guys share an apartment together, and the contrast between your guy’s decor can be laughable. hobie has crumbled newspaper cutouts and band posters sprawled all over his walls— graffiti to roughen it up even more. while you had a dainty wallpaper with printed flowers, topped with assortments of neatly lined photos of you and hobie taken during your dates.

that’s why the living room in your apartment is completely bare. except for some framed photos of more cute memories and the dried flowers that hobie (stole) bought you on your first date. mostly, the trinkets you both own are scattered around the apartment.

hobie would be pouring cereal into a pink, bunny ceramic bowl. while you drink raspberry tea in a ridged mauve mug with the words ‘fuck capitalism’ written in hobie’s scratchy handwriting. and yes, you did take hobie to a pottery class as a cool date idea (he thought it was a cute idea too).

hobie always wears a copious amount of studded leather belts but also, your plush keychain(s) securely clipped onto his belt loops. hobie loves to show them off whenever he’s out with his bandmates— “ain’t it a lil’ cute? ‘s even got a lil’ blush on ‘s cheeks.” and that doesn’t limit him during his nightly patrols, he would get a few insults about having a ‘stupid toy’ on his belt, to which he would punch the daylights out of them and trap them in a thick layer of web.

you also proudly accessorize your bags with hobie’s handmade keychains. your favorite was a little replica of his guitar and a pink star that “represents you”. but because they are personally made, he would leave song lyrics and flirty comments written in the back of each keychain— marking the date when he gifted it to you.

going shopping with hobie was also lots of fun. there was a nearby boutique that you always shop at; selling exclusively skirts and dresses adorned with frills and bows, and hair accessories that are covered in pearls and ribbon (he honestly sticks out like a sore thumb but he couldn’t care less). hobie helps you pick out stuff, taking clothes off the rack and asking you to try it on. he compliments you every time you show off, giving you a little twirl and whispering a suggestive comment that makes you slap his chest. if you decide that you weren’t particularly fond of the outfit, hobie would go out of his way to put away said clothes back into its rack whilst having a good chat with the shop owners (they love him to bits).

one time, you decided it would be fun to wear some of his stuff. putting on a studded leather choker he left on his bedside table, you walked out with your chin held high and a grin so big. immediately, hobie felt like he combusted five times and went over to graze a hand over your leathered neck— “you’re an absolute looka’ babe.”

whenever you guys are out, he would always keep an eye out for your skirt. not in a weird way, but to make sure it doesn’t show private bits that would entertain creeps that would pass by. that’s why he would subconsciously linger his hand on your hips and he would always let you sit in the subway train, amusingly eyeing down at you drawing whilst he holds onto the upper railing— guarding you with his solid frame.

you’re a real sucker for british dating shows. it wasn’t like you believed in them, but found them heavily entertaining. hobie had always been fond of the things you like, even though they completely contrasted his personal aesthetic and interest. but he cannot, for the life of him, agree with dating shows. as you snuggled into him and share a fluffy blanket— watching the latest season of said dating show, he would cackle as he gives snarky comments at every moment and heavily criticize the whole concept of “making yourself look li’ a knob on the telly” (you sent him to his room afterwards, he apologized the morning after).

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[ridingtorohan]

How the shifters react to you having a high body temp, knowing that it represents your platonic/romantic attraction to them

Goofy headcanon time!

Each titan shifter can recognize how another shifter feels about them based on their body heat. This includes all attraction: familial, platonic, aesthetic, romantic, so on.

SPOILERS for shifter identities AND events up to Season 4 Special Literally everyone has some spoilers for the anime to some extent. Older shifters like Kruger and KSaver is excluded, but there's 11 listed. It's in order from oldest to youngest.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist _ Join the taglist!

ZEKE YEAGER

He feels it for a second, when your knuckles brush against his wounded shoulder, fastening his restraints tighter, making sure he's secure while transporting him out of Marley on the blimp

Blue eyes darting to you, tracing the features on your face, lingering for a second on the titan marks beneath your eyes

Then he focuses on the task at hand, filing that away for later

He has a lot of time to stew on it, the simmering heat under your touch. Low but steady. Lucky for you! You're assigned to his guard detail in the forest with Captain Levi

Shifter to shifter, you're able to relate on a different level than he does to Levi.

Also makes note how you drop to ice cold when the horrors of Shiganshina. Probably realizes that's where you snagged yourself a titan ability.

Listen... if you saw him coming out of the Beast........... you're smoking, iykyk?

Because he's a little shit, he uses it to his advantage. Makes full eye contact with you during conversations, leaning forward. Which makes it interesting when you or Levi nip off his arms to restrain him and you have to give him a drink.

Leans in nice and slow, eyes staring directly into yours, letting you watch him as he takes a long, slow sip. Licks his lips, knowing you're watching him, leans back, eyes lidded. "Thank you, I was terribly thirsty"

Levi kicks his teeth in

Lord have mercy on you for when it's time to bathe

He literally will always use it to his advantage if you let him but will never clue you in unless you already know

Zeke will tease you about this, pressing a cigarette to his lips, his arm or leg brushing yours. "Are you cold? I can help you feel warmer" (Levi is murdering him with his eyes in the background)

Y'know maybe he does warm you up later 😏

Probably starts warming up to you shortly before his jailbreak, though it's hard to tell in what way.

After this point, it's a little too late to do anything else about it.

LARA TYBUR

Bro you hardly even realize that she's a titan at first.

As a titan inheritor, the Marley Gov't requires that you and your fellows play nice with the Tybur family whenever they visit.

She's tepid temperature at first, your thoughts and ideas making you a little colder to the touch.

You brush against each other at some fancy schmancy dinner party. She act very much like an Eldian at the party, silent, refilling your cup and you thank her.

Later, you're just feeling soo awkward with her family, with watching Willy dance around his family, laughing and jesting.

Some of the Warriors keep trying to make guesses as to who the Warhammer is but ultimately you don't figure it out

You try your luck at befriending all of them, painfully aware of Willy's eyes on you every time you talk to his sister

But something about Lara keeps drawing you in. Her quiet demeanour, the sleek attire, her proper figure. Dutiful and classy, voice quiet but confident.

Telling her about books and the latest movie, offering tea and biscuits from your Zone whenever you visit.

She never says anything about your body temperature and honestly you don't touch her often enough to notice a difference

But you do notice that she talks to you a little more, lingers by your side more than she does anyone else

During the attack, you do everything you can to defend her crystal - so painfully, carefully aware of how it burns under your titan's hand

REINER BRAUN

Sorry, he's made to suffer. Nothing in his life is ever easy. Isayama decided that. (And so did I.) (There's a happy ending, I promise.)

Things would be simpler for Reiner if everything went well, if he became a great warrior, if his father noticed him, if he did well on his missions. The first thing that goes wrong is Marcel.

When he meets you for the first time, a memory tickles at his mind. Something familiar in the way your skin touches his. Then he gives you a smile, introducing himself and Bertholdt.

Something about you always drew him in. He'd watch you across the training yard and smile whenever you looked at him. Always glad to help you out, shedding himself of the warrior skin and so much easier into the soldier one.

Sucks as a sparring partner btw. Always checking to make sure he didn't go too hard on you.

At some point you probably made mention of him working up a sweat during the training. His body temp is not much warmer than normal but noticeable. Everyone in the Cadets is his pal but there's something special about you

You, who feels like they've had a bit too much sun, but still comfortable.

With time, it may increase to a warmth that lingers in his bones, reminding him of his mother's teas and fresh bread.

He really likes wrapping his arms around you for this, a big bear who just holds you tight to his chest. Big squish!

Likes to clap his hands to your shoulders from behind, feel your warmth in his hands

If you are this warm, he'll always do a little start when you touch him, caught off guard. With as often as he's thought about you, he'll become a bit flustered at times - he begins to entertain a crush and/or getting to know you better.

However, a part of Reiner always remains..... apprehensive

Lays awake at night wondering about you, your tale of being orphaned, family long dead. Something not quite settling

This is what stops him from actually getting close-close to you

At Utgard Castle, it's obvious why something niggled inside him at the sight of you. Because one day, when his dreams were shattered by a boy, a titan lunged out of the ground. That's how you inherited the Jaw

It explains everything, in the end. He may not have recognized that you were a fellow shifter but he did recognize the body heat

You, unfortunately, are either kidnapped or agree to go along with Reiner and Bertholdt in the forest.

You are, either, an unfortunate soul cast out of Marley or a former warrior candidate who was cast out alongside your family thanks to Zeke's efforts years prior. If the latter, Reiner does mention it to Zeke in hopes of him sparing you because, technically, you are on "their" side. It's not a positive outlook either way.

Knowing your fate in Marley, Reiner spends time with you. Painfully aware of how broken his betrayal meant to you (if you're colder) or how you still believe in him (if you remain the same/increase)

Above all else, Reiner considers you a friend and he's so sorry.

If, by sheer chance, he leaves you unsupervised or your chains a little loose to "let your blood circulate" and you accidentally escape, he won't be upset.

And if, he saw you, years later, doing recon work in Marley.. and your eyes caught, he would make the conscious choice to turn away.

Marcel may have been his first mistake but he doesn't regret these two.

Very awkward when you join forces with him to take down Eren.

Reiner remembers the last time he saw you, what your touch felt like.

But the thing about Reiner isn't that his soldier personality was a persona - it's still him. He still cares for you. At this point you know what the touch means, can't blame it on the campfires. You may or may not have trusted him before but you trust him now.

Your hand slides in his, reminiscent of your first meeting, letting him know. "I trust you, Reiner. We'll work with you"

He'll still be withdrawn from the Paradis group but ... his feelings about you never really stopped. Time, distance and circumstance may have changed it, but never stopping it.

He thinks of your touch, even now, even during the final fight.

And, when everything is said and done, when the titan blood doesn't linger in either of your veins, Reiner knows how you feel by the look in your eyes.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER

Whatever you do, do NOT think about Bertholdt touching a non-Marleyan shifter after he escapes beyond the walls. Do NOT think about your touch burning under his, with Bert pleading for Zeke's mercy. Because despite everything, you still thought so highly of him.

Real talk: THIS GUY IS THE REASON YOU BECAME A TITAN SHIFTER

Unfortunately, despite being a fellow warrior candidate, you weren't chosen. Your score was a smidge below what they were looking for.

Bert was one the first to shift. In the practice field where this is done, he, unfortunately, steamed the heck out of you. Bad enough that it was a matter of getting medical attention asap. Fortunately, thanks to your score, the generals decided that you would be swapped out with one of the candidates and inherit a titan!

This is Bertholdt's first memory as a titan, by the way. :) He feels beyond terrible for what happened.

But having grown up together, helped each other through the trials and training... you two wind up being friends. Decently close, because he winds up telling you about his family, what he's doing for his father.

Bert looks up to you a lot. Always staying by your bedside when you got injured, kept a Band-Aid in his pocket for whenever you tripped during the training. (Or if he does. As gangly-limbed as that boy was, that happened often too.)

He knows but also doesn't about the significance of the warmer touches. It was probably one of those tidbits that was filed away for later and then forgotten. It doesn't matter when you're in bed injured and recovering from the heat damage he literally inflicted on you.

Super caring. Always having to talk both of you out of trouble when you wind up in it. But Bertholdt finds himself admiring that anyway, how different you are to him. (He's actually so thankful that you're a warrior with him, even if this was the worst way for it to happen.)

The other warriors clue in that you two are close but don't really comment on it. "Good for them" stance.

Bertholdt likes sitting next to you! Thighs brushing, his leg touching yours. Just small intimate moments that mean the world to him.

Then Marcel gets attacked and all Bertholdt can think about is 'thank god it wasn't you'. He'll stay wide awake watching you sleep at night, only nodding off when/if you let him sleep beside you, his palm on yours.

During training, Bertholdt finds a lot of comfort by sleeping next to you. Even if he ends up sprawled all over your body.

Thing is, Bertholdt doesn't really quite piece together the heat thing. Just knows that you're his, in some shape or form, that you're what's making this mission bearable. He doesn't miss Marley, he just misses you whenever you're not around.

Gets fidgety if you elect to join a different faction from him. But he understands. (But when you walk past him during the scouts enlistment, his hand catches yours for just a moment. Just for this. Because no matter what you mean to him, he wants you to stay.)

Fake dating trope because how else are you supposed to inform Bertholdt about the information you gathered while in the interior?

Everybody believes the ruse lmao

And, the thing with him is, there always feels like there's going to be more time. Sitting at tables, talking about your days. Reminiscing about Marley and campfires.. it's easy to think that you'll get those days back. That it's just another year, another season, another "one more time" before you get to go home.

For Bert, his feelings are... kind of a catch-all. Could be inferred as romantic or platonic. All he knows is that you're the most important person to him. He's just so glad that he gets to spend your thirteen years together.

And, when the mission goes wrong, when the attempts to kidnap Eren go awry and he has to pull your battered body from your titan, Bertholdt is right by your side, as he always is. There's always going to be another attempt, another chance. (Until there isn't.)

Bertholdt feels like home, his hand warm in yours. (He wants to keep coming back to you.)

Maybe those three simple words are whispered, right before it all goes to shit and you're captured/immobilized and Bertholdt grows desperate to get you back. Maybe you two never say them at all. But when it's just you two, the moments feel like they last forever.

(But you do. You know you have to talk about what this means for both of you, even if it meant defining your friendship in a different way. And he'll stutter and stumble over his words but listen intently, knowing that nothing is worth the cost of losing you. And he's secretly so relieved that you feel the same way, no matter what form your affection takes shape as.)

Bertholdt will cherish your friendship for as long as he lives.

PIECK FINGER

Whoo! Titan! Bes - ties!

Warrior trainees together, it totally sucked when you were passed over and Pieck inherited without you. She's pretty chill about everything, walking down the street with you while holding hands, throwing her arms around you constantly. Letting you ride atop her titan's back while she runs around the airfield.

Consider your relationship with her a mix of her squad and Porco

Legit you both are close before you even get a chance to inherit your titan, which you do! Eventually!

She's honestly not that great at explaining how titan shifting works or how to "focus" and "control" it but she'll help you get your bearings by walking around with you in titan form

Her body heat is like a heated blanket, warm and comfortable, ooey gooey melting cookie in your mouth kind of warm.

If you're ever on a long trek together, it's easy to doze off next to her, backs pressed together or her head in your lap.

Honestly she probably doesn't even think to mention how you feel to her, or acknowledge what it means. Pieck is happy with everything you are, how it feels with you.

actually tbh might comment about it everytime she springs a hug on you

"Incoming hug! Ahh... this is nice. you're so warm😊"

Your warmth is so comfortable to her. She's often nuzzling against you.

Honestly you guys would be borderline romantic, even if one/neither of you felt that way. It's just how you two are.

If you do cheek kisses, she'd be all up for that.

If you're romantically attracted to her, it'd be a seamless transition. Like you could invite her somewhere and mention it's a date and she'd just go "oh yay :)".

Otherwise at some point someone comments about how you two are always together on outings (calling them 'dates') and Pieck just goes "yes. :)" then later when it's just you two, "it really does feel like a date sometimes, doesn't it?"

Definitely respects it if you're not interested in her that way + just think of her as a sister or best friend. She won't change how she interacts with you at all (unless you mention that it makes you uncomfortable)

ANNIE LEONHARDT

A year (or a few) older than her, your family has warrior heritage; it’s a point of prestige and honour for you, moreso than for normal candidates. You have an expectation and responsibility to your ancestors to follow through. Of course you’d get a titan. Especially the one your family has meticulously trained for again and again; it’s not so much about the high esteem but keeping it in the family. Inheriting their memories. (For giggles, imagine it’s the attack or female titan.)

By the time Annie and the other warriors are partway through their training, you’ve all but confirmed your spot. It’s just a matter of establishing which one you’ll get.

You’re not exactly friends with Annie initially, especially with her aloof nature. But she’s companionable, sitting quietly if you ever approach her. Everything about her at the start is like that - withdrawn, solemn. Just as focused on her duty as you are. Either you find companionship over this fact or in spite of it - finding life worth living outside of being a candidate.

When you’re recovering from your inheritance, Annie is the one to tend to you. While you don’t remember a lot of it, amnesia getting the better of you, you’re almost certain that she was holding you.

Annie often watches as you continue your training, especially as a titan. She’ll gladly train in titan hand to hand combat with you once she inherits the female titan.

All the shifters are given books to learn about how to best utilize their titans. As they’re leafed through, it’ll mention the odd quirk of the shifters. Pieck is the most excited for this, followed by Reiner. It becomes a point of conversation, where everyone compares their temperatures - though Annie is quite reserved about the whole ordeal. She takes pity on Bertholdt who feels hot to her touch, though she does throw him under the ringer. You, though? She says not much at all, calling it quits at that point (if she hasn’t already).

She doesn't make a big deal of it at all, merely treating you like another candidate. One that she gets along with better than anyone else, at any rate.

In the group, you're dubbed "Annie's best friend". If Annie ever hears of this, you never know.

When it's time to leave for the wall, her knuckles brush against yours. The only indication that she's restless and has any qualms about what they're doing.

But as children honed for war, sometimes rivalries are hard to beat. Especially when the first tragedy strikes your group and Reiner takes the lead, leading you to wall. To mayhem. Murder is a different burden to bear, one that sits funny in your throat.

She sits with you at the refugee camps. While you've never seen her grab extra portions of food, she always seems to have some for you. She takes care of you (and you remember your first shift, how she had been the one to hold you).

Joining the Police is the only sane decision, the inner network so much like Marley. So much like home. You're relieved when Annie goes with you, even though you think it was for duty. (You never know if it was.)

Hitch gets added to the short list of Annie's friends. But nobody replaces you, nobody knows her as well as you do. You know each other's mood, the subtle raise of her brow or scrunch of her nose.

She takes her duty seriously - but she takes you seriously too.

You're the only comfort from home she has.

In the forest after she's hacked up by Levi, you're the one to grab her. To take her back, tending to her as she's cared for you so many times.

Unfortunately your close bond makes it easier to seek you out as a titan. Easier to goad you into advancing attacks, to defending her honour from horrors Armin promises she's enduring.

For you, Annie felt like home more than Marley ever had. Siblings, best friends, lovers. Whatever you felt for her, it was strong.

If you get a chance to see her chrystalized, you touch it desperately, trying to feel a sense of life inside. And you feel it, an echoing thrum beneath your hand.

She mentions it, later, when you two are alone on the ship. "I don't remember what you said, but I felt you." (She always has.)

And when you both go to fight Eren, fighting for something you want so desperately to keep now, you feel her knuckles brush against yours like they did so long ago. When you two were sworn to duty, marching to the walls. This time, you take her hand and never let go.

If you both survive this, she'll show you exactly how much you mean to her.

YMIR

100000% figured out you were a titan shifter because of this.

Her memories of the castle are hazy at best; initially she only remembers the heat and fog, the truth of Christa's real name.

While she knows quite a bit about her titan and its abilities, she doesn't know anything useful. The body heat memories? She knows it. Knows how her previous shifter learned about it, knows how he felt about his comrades.

She's hardly had reason to touch you before this, but like she figured out Reiner in the castle (they touched briefly) she also knows who you are. Knows the truth of your Marleyan roots.

Like Annie, you had been more distant from the group and more independent - you weren't as easily found out compared to them. At that point, it was only Ymir who really knew. Go, you. Clap yourself on the back for a job well done.

As well as you'd hide your identity, unfortunately the capture must take precedence. With Annie compromised, Reiner and Bertholdt outed, you have no choice but to pick up their slack.

Eren is fucking pissed that you're a titan and regardless of your involvement with the walls breaking, often voices his displeasure towards you loudly.

Ymir saw it coming so she takes it in stride and is dismissive towards you. You two really don't get a chance to speak, not until she's back in Marley and that's all that's left for her. Stone walls and iron bars, her complacency and feeling like a debt is owed is what keeps her there.

You sit with her most days, where she eventually opens up about the cadets. That's not to say you're best friends, but she's not dense enough not to take advantage of how you feel about her.

Listen, if you're not a woman, you stand no chance. If you are, she might confess her feelings towards Christa, how Christa helped her change as a person, how she felt like she could be herself.

How she could be herself around you, too.

While Ymir was never as buddy-buddy with you as she had been Christa, she had often roped you into being indebted to her, owing her favours one way or another.

She's back to her usual tirade even while imprisoned, using those unreturned favours to charter better meals or pen and papers. Most days you watch her write, rewrite, try to figure out what she wants to pen to Christa. Ultimately she writes her final draft with Reiner and leaves it in his possession.

Ymir is never quite hostile towards you, not when she learns of your service to your country, to the threat you thought Paradis posed. To the family and people you swore to protect. She understood it. Perhaps better than anyone bar Marcel.

You get a chance to touch her sometimes, changing the irons or giving her new clothes or meals.

There was a time when you were closer, as cadets. When she'd sling an arm over your shoulder, teasing about something or other. That's what it mostly was, her goading you into some tasks for her or taking the fall for things.

Back then, she used how you felt about her against you.

Unfortunately, facing death, she's mellow and more withdrawn. You don't learn much of anything during this time, not verbally anyway. But you learn about what kind of person she was, what role she had before.

And she asks for you to be there when she's eaten. Not directly, but something Reiner tells you later. When he's telling you that you've spoken more to her than she has, that she had tolerated your presence better, that you were the only Marleyan that she looked forward to seeing.

And when you go through her cell later, rifling through what meagre possessions she had, you find a letter addressed to you, hidden beneath leaflets of messy unfinished letters. Thanking you for not treating her as a monster, for not using Christa against her like Bertholdt had. That if she had a choice, she'd want you to inherit the jaw solely for your friendship with your fellow cadets and Christa.

She writes of other things too, little things she noticed about you, tips on how to get better at hiding or hitting. Advice on to living for yourself and not under the charade of the Marleyan government.

There's scrawled out ink, too, of things that she crossed out. She writes in that familiar, knowledgeable but closed off way that she does. In those sentences, under candle light, you can make out her thoughts on the heat exchange, moments from your cadet days. Once, what she would've done if you both had stayed on Paradis. Even a list of favours that she wanted to bank on, teasing remarks written in margins of paper and belittling comments that felt only praising coming from her.

Strange, how you only know her better in death, where you can no longer speak to her and hear the words left unsaid.

PORCO GALLIARD

the biggest baddest boldest guy who will LATCH ONTO YOU SO FAST MAN. I'm half joking

But he zeroes in the second your temperature spikes whenever you touch him. Turns his head towards you, gesture a little quick, eyes watching you, half-lidded. Aware, aware, aware of what this means

He's always always watching you after this, smirking softly to himself, just nodding along

You're so lucky he feels the same way because otherwise he'd just wrinkle his nose and turn his head away, "ew, you're hot" like the turd he is /affectionate.

Once he notices, Porco will always be hovering over you, in your personal space, raising his eyebrows and smirking when you turn around and bump into him. Gtfo Porco. Always casual about leaning against you, your arms brushing.

Porco doesn't really do cuddling but he'll be annoying about this, lightly touching. all. the. time.

Porco knows what it means. And if you don't say anything about it, he will. Just casually drops the fact about shifter body heat before shoving his hands and walking off casually. Leaving you guessing about his intentions.

Eventually it culminates in frustration because this smug mf won't tell you JACK.

Honestly you're going to have to confront him about this at some point unless one of the others point out the weird dance you two are doing.

(If you get frustrated with him enough that it affects your temp towards him, he'll knock it back so fast. Rubber banding it like a pro. He may be a dick but once it's clear he's making you uncomfortable he'll back off.)

Raises his eyebrows, leaning back. "You know what it means, don't you?" All smug. Leading into him talking about his own temperature, "Well, what do you think it means?" Literally makes you guess about how he feels about you. If you guess romantic, he'll lean his arm up against the wall, getting close to your face, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah."

Free boyfriend.

If you don't do teasing, he'll be more upfront. “You know what it means.” He's reciprocal so even if he didn’t romantically like you if you guess boyfriend, he’ll be like “yeah”.

Again, free boyfriend.

If you're strictly platonic, he'll do a little sigh, expression smoothing and go, “You're my best friend, dumbass.”

Free best friend.

Will become the bitchiest bitch to ever bitch if your temperature ever lowers.

Possessive possessive possessive. Competitive af. “Well, the other shifters don't feel hotter than I do, do they?" Glowers and sulks if anyone teases that your touch feels scorching hot to them.

Other than these instances, he actually NEVER mentions your temp or asks how you feel when he touches you. Would listen intently if you ever decide to describe in detail what his body temp feels to you.

Gets super smug if you mention it in front of the others.

EREN YEAGER

Sorry, there's no happy way this can end at all. :(

Eren straight up does not know about the heat thing until he inherits the attack titan's full memories.

But he's always kind of ... known in a way too. Every time your hands slap together or you pull each other out of danger, he feels it. The warmth lingering under your skin.

Grisha learned it during his studies with Zeke and Eren inherited that memory. Eren remembers then forgets in that same instant when he inherits his titan as a kid. So he knows, by pure instinct, that it's good. It feels right

He emotionally warms up to you more because of this.

Does not get touchy feely over this, although his hands often linger a little longer on you

There's two paths here. One where you're a Marleyan warrior and one where you inherit it after (jaw or in Shiganshina).

As a warrior, your betrayals burns worse than anything else. He's always suspected Reiner because of his cold+hot flashes but you? You who always burned like a star under his fingertips, who sent a wave of comfort through him?

It stings like nothing else has ever before.

It stings when he's in Marley, bandage to his face and leg, watching the people walk past.

He either waits for you purposefully or has Falco grab you a day/hours before the Marley exhibit. (Conveniently, this would be when Reiner is busy and he has an excuse to talk to Reiner later)

Or you come along with Reiner

It's such a small moment, in the end. His palm meeting yours, or your shoulders touching when you pass him by.

But it's a supernova, lit under his touch. And it settles the idea inside him that Marley and Paradis are the same, that there are people he cares for both in and outside the walls.

As a non-Marleyan, in the end, it doesn't change anything. He's still Eren and you're still you. Despite everything.

He's like a comet when he touches you later, after the rescue from Marley. Even when his knuckles are bruised from Armin's bones, when there's a fire in his eyes and death on his lips

But he's still Eren and you're still you.

And there's never enough time

(There's a memory that you only get later, after Everything. Where you sit together, toes on the beach, shoulder to shoulder. Where his skin is warmer than the sands. Where he tells you in what way he thinks about you. Where he asks you about yours and you answer. And you will remember this with a heat in your throat knowing that you'll never feel his touch again)

ARMIN ARLERT

I'm absolutely losing it just thinking about going to a sauna with Armin and after he finds out about the body heat thing he accidentally exclaims, "wait why'd you gET COLDER?" (if you do it's def because you went through the mental gymnastics of respecting his body and not getting thorsty)

He honestly didn't even realize there's a difference between normal people vs shifters because he actually hasn't touched the Warriors trio a lot prior to his shifting (so he has no baseline to compare it to). And Eren always ran hot

He really only clues in when he notices that your body temperate is a lot higher than normal and he freaks out a little, thinking you have a fever. Except everyone else assures him that no, you feel perfectly fine to them, what are you on about Armin??

Hange knows jack all about it; it's not a normal titan feature. Armin eventually has to ask Eren, Zeke or Annie about it directly

Gets flustered and comforted by the realization that you care so deeply for him. If you run crazy hot then it'll be like making him face his fear of fire (rip Armin)

If you don't know what the body temp means, he'll be all too glad to inform you! He won't ask you what temperature you feel his touches at BUT would be all too willing to test what influences the increase/decrease!

Turns super red if the experiments get a little too handsy and you both feel each other's temperatures spike

He's actually super touchy feely! Always reaching for you, giving you lingering hugs or brushing at your clothes/hair. He'll take your hand when its just you two, thumb stroking over the skin, basking in your warmth.

Will cuddle if you let him/ask him. Absolutely adores it. Always happy to indulge

If you're crushing on him, this is the thing that tips Armin off! He's so studious and acutely aware of each minute change so he notices when you get a little warmer, esp if you're reacting to him grabbing your arm or brushing something from your cheek

Probably noticed how you act around him too

If you're not crushing on him the it's just an awkward fiasco BECAUSE:

He confronts you about this. You're both just sitting down somewhere, him across from you, knees drawn up as you're talking or enjoying the silence. Eyes downcast as he brings up, "Do you have... feelings for me?" Voice soft, skin even hotter than his tomato red face. He takes your hands in his and looks up at you earnestly, "this is how I feel about you", letting you feel his emotions

In the case that Armin thinks of you strongly as a friend/ally only, he'll let you down gently. By directly referencing his newfound knowledge. Purposefully going "It's interesting that we can tell so much about the other person when you touch them like this" and he grabs your hand, looking right up into your eyes, smiling gently, "Like this. See? You'll always be my best friend" Emphasis on 'always' and 'best friend'. #friendzoned #ripyou

FALCO GRICE

Sunshine baby, baby boy, my literal son in another universe

He's always holding your hand. You're so cool! A warrior who trained with Reiner, he looks up to you immensely, although your term being close to being up stresses him TF out about Gabi

Listen, you're stuck with little brother Falco who always follows you around, tugging on your sleeve or running off on errands for you. Give him the time of day and you'll have a new dog. I mean child

If you're close to Reiner at all he'll latch on even harder. You're both his parental figures, although he gets so flustered if anyone mentions it.

He's deadset on inheriting the Armour but if you have the choice of who you can give yours to and you pick him, he's gonna cry.

He doesn't remember a lot about his first shift or the events surrounding it, except the smell of burnt flesh and fire in his arms. If you touch him at all when he immediately comes out of his titan, he'll dissolve into hysterics, crying without knowing why, because your touch reminds him immediately of the memory he's almost forgetting

Fortunately, he does forget

When you finally get to touch him after the amnesia period is over, Falco absolutely melts in your arms. Also immediately cries. Because he does know what this means, has studied this in his books, knows it from Porco's memories. Sobs and wails in your arms, feeling so secure and loved. Because you love him and you care for him. After everything he's been through, he needs this

Hugs you so, so tight every chance he gets, getting red-faced whenever Gabi teases him. Hovers by your side a lot, knowing everything will keep being okay so long as he can feel your warmth.

Always touching you, probably gets a little anxious when you leave him alone but eventually comes around.

For the kiddos out there who are crushing on my son, I raise a counter scenario. Just for you. You're now my child-in-law

Training together!! Yay!!

Your grades will vary, though you're definitely behind Gabi on the roster. Sorry, I do make the rules.

Falco excitedly told you about body heat when he read about it in a book!! You two excitedly try to figure out how you'd feel to each other.

Unfortunately, this is about the time he gets a crush on you. So Falco gets so flustered the next time you mention it to him and he ends up blurting that he hopes he never finds out what temperature you'd feel like to him.

Wants to protect you forever and ever, taking a similar route that he does with Gabi in canon.

You became shifters together! Terrible news!

Except when you're both pulled from the napes of your titans. When you have to ride with Connie, forgetting everything except the press of his hand in yours.

Falco may not remember the meaning behind the warmth but knows that it's good, that he can trust you.

Once his memories come back, avoids you to high heavens because he is so acutely aware of the flipside of this scenario. That you can feel how hot he burns because of his crush. He doesn't even think about what your hot touch means for him

You have to chase him down.

Keeps making excuses until you almost fight him trying to get him to settle.

He's definitely heartbroken if you tell him you only see him as a brother/best friend. Probably gets teary eyed and red-faced but accepts it before running off. He'll stop avoiding you after this.

Gets so red if you tell him you romantically like him too.

After the confession or when he's calmed down from the rejection, he comes back around. He's pretty constant at your side and will hold your hand if you let him, reassured by your warmth.

No matter what happens, at least you have each other.

[laylaysdelusions]

When the sun goes down and the moon comes up

Wbb girls x goth!reader headcannons

An: it’s spooky season yall and I heard from a lil birdie or two that we need more diversity in the fanfic community and I agree so here it is<3

Warnings: a TINY bit of nsfw

Kk Arnold

She had a crush on you for a while. She thought you were so interesting and cool but she was nervous about how you would react to a sassy stud having a crush on her but you fell in love with her regardless.

A lot of people make comments about how you two don’t match up at all but you both ignore them because you are happy as opposites.

“She’s still my baby, I don’t mind, it makes her cooler”

You think she’s also the coolest person on planet earth, you like going to the Nike store and buying her new clothes and shoes, anything to see her smile. Even if that’s not your personal vibe.

Paige Bueckers

You were the first girl Paige was nervous to flirt with. Not because you were scary but because you were different than the hyper f girls who only wanted to get in her pants. You changed what she considered her type completely.

She loves watching you pick out your outfits and do your gothic makeup. She pays for your nail sets every time. You don’t even have to ask.

The first time she seen you without your bold aesthetic she fell even harder than before. You are adorable with and without.

She will defend you around anyone who says rude things about how you dress, you on the one hand let them and ignore it, Paige hates that.

Azzi Fudd

You have had many sassy arguments over the aux. she loves rnb while you like Pierce the Veil. After a while she started to give in. You just look so pretty she can’t say no.

She makes you show her your Pinterest boards so when she wants to surprise you she knows what you’ve been wanting.

she loves when your lipstick swears on her so she purposely does it. It always makes you huff and pout because you have to reapply it.

She loves when your eye liner runs when she’s making you cum. It’s one of her favorites

Once you wanted to do her makeup like yours and who is she to resist ofc she said yes!!

“Hold still we have to do your eye liner and lipstick perfectly”

I’ll try to do a part 2 of this gets enough attention <3

[lexirosewrites]

Moviestars AU (?) steddie A/B/O

No, but like they're filming a christmas movie. Not sure abt the time period I'm thinking 90s to 2000s

A!Eddie didn't end up making it as a rock star, he ended up getting famous from comedy. He went out to LA & found himself performing stand up on the side. He worked his way through the comedy club scene around LA till he found himself in front of a bored director & then he was on a movie set as a ten line character in some buddy comedy movie. Then he found himself on another movie set, then another movie set, and then suddenly before he knew it he was considered a legitimate movie star. He played up the wannabe rock star who was too goofy persona, wore something leather at every event, got multiple piercings on both ears, doesn't hide his tattoos he even gets more as the years go by, and he now had a multitude of rings tht weren't costume jewelry.

Eddie proves himself as a srs actor by starring in a few horror movies. Even got to show off his skills on the guitar. He's made a lot of money, he bought Wayne some land with a house out in Montana, and he owns a house of his own in the Hills. When his agent A!Chrissy slides a christmas movie script his way he actually laughs. She convinces him to read the script before he thinks to reject it bc it did have to go thru her critical eye before she even brought it to him. So he gives it a read not long after chrissy leaves.

It's not what he's expecting. The movie is set entirely inside a mountain hotel at christmas (think hunting lodge aesthetics), guests & workers find themselves in the midst of a blizzard christmas eve, his character is the manager of the hotel & he largely features as the narrator of three different christmas stories happening among the other characters, till the end which is a large party for the guests & the audience learns the manager was flirting w the baker from the town who got trapped by the blizzard throughout the movie and it ends w them kissing under the mistletoe

Eddie gives it thought & ends up agreeing to the role. Chrissy gets his contract finalized, and the read throughs begin. He quickly learns its something of an ensemble cast with multiple big names playing characters featured throughout the movie, till he meets the actor playing the baker & he doesn't recognize him.

O!Steve is a movie star, of a sort. He's a hallmark darling so to speak. He's often cast in romantic straight to TV movies done on a shoe string budget, he isn't often the lead. there's a running gag tht his characters have to have a scene where he's cooking or baking. It started as coincidence but now it's become a pattern tht has turned into a larger meta inside joke. When he gets asked to act in an actual movie full of big names & big studios backing the budget he says yes simply because Hallmark wasn't in filming season quite yet.

Anyway Steve is cast as the baker trapped from leaving the hotel from the blizzard.

Read through goes well, and he ends up having good screen chemistry w Eddie. Filming has its ups and downs, but steddie end up falling in love inbtwn takes... so much so tht the morning after the wrap party they go to the nearest courthouse. The news tht they're married is supposed to b kept secret till the movie premiere, only for Eddie to reveal their relationship by accident on a morning talk show when he slips up by saying he & Steve r spending time w his Uncle Wayne for the winter holidays. The PR team is able to spin it in a way tht leads to the movie getting an even bigger box office turn out when it comes out around December 10th

Steddie don't pay this much mind by the time the movies out bc they're having Christmas at Wayne's farm & have a wrapped box for the old man filled with 3 positive pregnancy tests & an ultrasound image

HALLMARK ROMCOM ACTORS STEDDIE OMEGAVERSE LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!!

[hiddenlife-manager]

Oliver Aiku x Fem Reader

cw… I had a chubby reader in mind but I never clarified, cock in pussy, wall sex, hook up, quickie, they do not know each other, drunk, condom, orgasm, public sex, sloppy sex, etc…

notepad… Not gonna lie I was like let me write this in honor of his first ever animated appearance in the show! I have a Hermes story in the works and I have an Oscar Piatstri one but I am currently in midterm season so give me time pookies! (Also yes I’ve been gone college has been beating my ass)

“Fuck!” Your voice cried out. Your hands were scratching at his clothed back. What you were doing was disgusting—having sex in a public bathroom. It wasn’t supposed to end like this; you were supposed to get drunk and go home with your friends. But here you were letting a random soccer player fuck your pussy into oblivion. You knew that this would end in one quick orgasm and act as if this had never happened; you didn’t mind. After all, he promised you a fun time, and you took it up with very little hesitation.

“Hush down, baby.” He whispered into your ear while he placed his hands on your ass. He continued to grope the soft flesh of your ass, not caring that while he was doing so he was shoving his cock into your loud pussy. His pants were down to his knees, all rumpled up, his belt still on his pants but unbuckled. His hard cock out with his boxer still on, he moved his cock to the side, giving him room to fuck you. As for you, your dress was tightly on your body, and your panties were moved to the side, giving him the best access to the one thing he wanted, your pussy.

The bathroom was as hot as it could be, with no air conditioning and covered in spray paint. The room dimly lit with red lighting complimenting the dark red aesthetic of the entire club. For a bathroom covered in spray paint, it was clean to a certain extent. You would never allow your own body to fall onto the sticky floor, but the wall was clean enough to allow him to fuck you.

“So good, Aiku, don’t stop.” You tried to say in a whisper, wanting desperately not to get caught. Never in your life have you imagined letting a random stranger fuck you in a club bathroom, but here you were, and just like him, you were loving it. He loved those words leaving your mouth. He loved it so much. If there was one thing that could boost his ego, it was when a pretty girl like you begged him to continue fucking you. His black and green hair stuck to his skin easily. Your body was already so sweaty it was clear from him holding your body up; occasionally his hands would struggle to get a grip, but he always managed. He may be using you as a hole to fuck, but he would still treat you with some level of respect.

“As you wish, baby.” He grinned at you; his beautiful, two-toned eyes stared at you in the red-lit room. Your breast bounced with every thrust of his. He was getting tired of just thrusting into your sopping wet pussy. Your juices hitting the floor of the semi-clean bathroom and soaking his condom-covered cock. He stopped, and in a second he began to move your body up and down his cock. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You mumbled as you felt your eyes roll. Your one arm gripped at his muscular neck and the other scratched at his clothed body. If you two were naked, you likely would have left lasting damage on his built body. His lips reached at your neck hungrily while his arms continued to move your body. His lips sucked at your skin; he loved quickies—the way he could just grab a random girl and fuck her to release his frustrations. It was an art, and he knew how to perfect it.

“Fuck so tight.” He complimented right under your ear. You clenched harder around his cock from hearing those words. He truly knew how to fuck a girl; he knew what to say, and you were no different. You were there for his pleasure and a side gift you would get to cum. It was a win-win situation. You get to be fucked properly, and he gets to cum. Your pussy pulsated with pleasure; each thrust followed with the sensation of being full. He was big, and it felt amazing; he knew how to work his cock. Fucking you until your pussy could not take any more of him.

Your moans were erotic, music to his ears. He loved it; it was all so sinful and wrong. Disgustingly wrong; no one should be getting fucked in a club bathroom, but here you two were, and there was no complaint from either of you. There was a heat that emanated from your two bodies; it wasn’t just from the heat of the bathroom; it was the heat of pleasure. His moans were low right under your ears, his mouth continuously working on your neck.

“Ah… ah- please make me cum! Aiku please!” You begged, and he could feel it the way your velvety walls clenched and pulsated faster and harder. Each time they clenched it, it made it harder to move you off his cock. His arms were gaining a workout from moving your body, and it was even more of a burn when your pussy kept him deep inside you, refusing to let him go. “Please… please-please-please!”

“So close aren’t you?” He knew he was being condescending, but he knew you would love it. He heard your moans and accepted it as his answer. He pressed your body against the wall more, squishing you against his body. “I need you to put your legs on the ground so I can fuck you, baby.” You nodded, and he slowly helped you put your legs down, and as your feet made contact with the ground, he thrust harsher and deeper. His arms were slammed against the wall beside your hands.

He ripped the precious moans of yours; it was pornographic the way you called out his name. You two did not care anymore about getting caught. He needed to cum, and you needed to cum with him. He finally felt his cock begin to twitch at the way your pussy sucked him in and knew that he was just as close as you. He began to thrust at the right pace, and there he felt your walls spasming. Your head slammed into his chest, and he groaned; his cock felt it all milking him. His cock came deep inside your pussy luckily, his condom kept it all inside.

“Ha…ha…” He breathed out his mouth, going onto the top of your forehead, and kissed it. He pulled out and placed a hand on your waist to keep you up. He reached with his free hand, pulling his condom off, and looked at your tired self. “How about I drive you home? Least I could do for this fuck.” He heard you laugh tiredly and nodded your head against his chest.

“I would appreciate it.”

“No problem.” His hand still held onto his condom, and his other still gripped at your figure. Maybe he would want to fuck you again if you were down for it.