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angelltheninth · 14 days ago

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Arcane Characters Make Food for You

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.

Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.

It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.

"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."

Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.

There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.

"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."

Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.

She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.

"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."

Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.

She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.

"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."

Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.

The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.

"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."

Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.

He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.

"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."

Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.

When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.

"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."

Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.

Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.

"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."

Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.

When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.

"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."

Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.

That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.

"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"

Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?

It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.

"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."

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sincerelyneo · 8 months ago

Note

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing.

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said."

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it.

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style.

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight.

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night.

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core.

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him.

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant.

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room.

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts.

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago.

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.”

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks.

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it.

Well, you won't be on your knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard.

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go.

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense.

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker.

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him.

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!”

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.”

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake.

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours.

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it?

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way."

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you.

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him.

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say."

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest.

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't."

But you do it.

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder.

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely.

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you.

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house.

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground.

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!”

You groan, I'm going to my room."

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know.

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently.

“What are you doing?” You spit.

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan.

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.”

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy.

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him.

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you.

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh.

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel.

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked.

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear.

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep.

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck.

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core.

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that.

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him.

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you.

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach.

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?"

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question."

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head.

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed.

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face.

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway.

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base.

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes.

Fuck no. Absolutely not.

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper.

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?"

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs.

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling.

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs.

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him.

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp.

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it.

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch.

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach.

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling.

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core.

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge.

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again.

"Yes, and what else?" He growls.

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues.

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough.

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down.

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning.

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before.

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.”

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed.

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would."

He’s thought about this? You know you have.

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down.

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions.

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion.

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off."

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy.

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets.

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it.

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely.

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.”

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick.

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt.

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards.

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock."

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat.

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop.

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?"

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod.

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip.

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat.

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl."

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more.

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk.

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself.

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks.

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer?

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him.

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him.

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore.

"You want it." He says point blankly.

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget.

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites.

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them.

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity.

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere.

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on.

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still.

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats.

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes.

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?”

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you.

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined."

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring.

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now.

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him.

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe.

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth.

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it.

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply.

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?"

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased.

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him.

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again.

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth.

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now.

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about.

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling.

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door.

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?"

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door.

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass.

"One second," you shout, jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it.

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you.

"I was hot." You shrug.

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.”

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony.

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you.

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.”

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself.

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you.

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh.

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh.

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling.

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop smut #nct hard hours

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ms-demeanor · 4 months ago

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making my own post because nobody needs my bullshit on their post:

OP:

Reblog 1:

Reblog 2:

My response:

The IRA blogs were here and they were active and they were quite popular; their posting patterns did not match normal tumblr users (i was followed by lagonegirl and followed back only to be put off by the account reblogging the same five or ten posts every hour for a day before selecting another five or ten posts to reblog hourly the next day - it was clear engagement bait).

Tumblr has never been as transparent about these accounts as both Twitter and Facebook were, but several of the accounts had shared names across platforms and you can find a significant amount of data that was released by both facebook (ex: ads purchased by the IRA accounts) and twitter (over three million tweets from IRA accounts). Academic researchers have published papers on the data released from facebook and twitter. Several papers. So many papers. Soooooo many papers. We have a LOT of direct evidence that you can explore for yourself that there were hundreds (possibly thousands) of IRA accounts that were created on Facebook and Twitter. Of those accounts, some shared usernames across platforms, and of those accounts, a few had tumblr accounts that posted the same content on twitter and tumblr.

To quote a buzzfeed news article from the time:

The Russian-run Tumblr accounts used the same, or very similar, usernames as the account names contained on a list of confirmed IRA accounts Twitter submitted to congressional investigators. In some cases, the Tumblr and Twitter account has the same profile image or linked to each other in their bios. Some IRA Tumblrs and Twitter accounts also cross-promoted content between platforms, further linking them together.

Current tumblr user @ alwaysbewoke (who I don't want to tag because I'm sure he's got better things to do) is interviewed in that article and talks about following one of the blogs identified by tumblr as an IRA blog that had a matching account on twitter identified as an IRA account but unfollowing when the left-leaning blog supposedly run by a black creator started rooting for trump in the election.

Dr. Jonathan Albright is heavily quoted in the article; the data review he collaborated on is one of the only reviews of this subject that includes data from Tumblr and Reddit.

One of the claims that I've seen is that tumblr just deleted funny black people, but these were blogs with thousands of followers on tumblr who never recreated, never popped up on another social media site, never started a reddit account after getting banned; nobody ever showed up saying "hey this is 4mysquad, I got banned on tumblr and twitter, follow me to pillowfort". These very popular blogs got deleted and, as far as I know, nobody ever popped up claiming to be a person who was deleted - and it's not like tumblr users haven't figured out how to evade bans.

What you are doing when you make posts saying that the IRA accounts on tumblr never existed is *absolving tumblr of guilt for their utter lack of transparency.*

Tumblr is not the only tech company that has tried to fly under the radar as its larger counterparts face regular scrutiny in Congress and in the press. Earlier this month, Reddit revealed it too had deleted hundreds of accounts with ties to the Internet Research Agency. A WIRED investigation found more than a thousand links to Russian propaganda websites are still live on Reddit, and unearthed two suspicious accounts that Reddit immediately shut down.

So should you believe what Tumblr says? No, because Tumblr has been functionally fucking silent on this issue and the information about this subject aside from the list of blogs has come from the hard work of data scientists, journalists, and researchers.

(For the record; some of those bot accounts that were recorded by Dr. Albright also had Google+ accounts in 2017 - there is every possibility that they had myspace accounts).

Now, the reason that I'm popping onto this post as an annoyed anarchist is that I was tracking a similar group of blogs for a while and was discussing them and I stopped precisely because of the galaxy-brained liberals who are now trying to dunk on communists for criticizing electoralism. One of the people who was following my project was one of the ones who started calling out the "joe biden kills dogs" posts as disinfo and I realized they were using some of the guidelines I'd written up to "identify" misinformation and that is very a rock fucking stupid approach to what was clearly a leftist making jokes and was horrified and realized there was no way that I could continue documenting what I was documenting without someone attempting to call actual leftists russian bots.

I've seen the post that OP is referencing [it's one where someone makes a very obvious joke about the democrat presidential ticket and people jump on to call them a bot and then someone tries to do the "AI tell me a story" thing and OP is just like "I don't want to :(", proving that they are in fact a person and not an AI] and have deeply enjoyed the humor of watching liberals a) not understand a very, VERY obvious joke and b) become the unwitting butt of a joke they were trying to make, but also I am so exhausted by watching normie dems call leftists AI bots after years of watching normie dems call real live actual leftists who hold actual political views that real people actually have, like prison abolition, russian bots.

But I am also so fucking tired of left conspiracism and how stupid it sounds when leftists dismiss a preponderance of evidence that is easily accessible and publicly available for analysis as "lol so you just trust everything tumblr tells you?"

No, dipshit, learn to click a fucking link or twelve.

#because i have to clarify before somebody calls *me* a bot: i vote as harm reduction #I've voted in every presidential election since 2004 #i voted dem in 2016 and 2020 even though i loathed the candidates for a number of reasons #so don't blue no matter who me #and maybe after the election try doing some jail support

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months ago

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You're a racewinner (Lando Norris)

The one where Lando won his first Formula One race

Note: english is not my first language. That race took years out of my life and all of the tears out of me, but I couldn't not do something for this moment ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to smut at the end, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Baby, can you come here and help me, please?", Lando called from the hotel bathroom, "I can't place this quite right".

Getting the plaster from your boyfriend's fingers, you fiddled with it a little before holding Lando's jaw so he could face you properly, "stay still,", you whispered, applying the sterile material on his nose cut with a tender touch.

"Thank you, lovie", Lando mumbled once you peeled both hands away from his face, pecking your lips, "couldn't help myself when I have your beautiful face so close to mine", he snickered.

Shaking your head at his capacity of turning you into mush, you pecked his nose gently, "are you going to play padel the whole afternoon?", you wondered.

"I'm not sure, I think so - we have dinner reservations downstairs though, Will, Mark and Oscar said they'd join us as well", he offered.

"Okay", you nodded, grabbing your laptop so you could get on with work at the desk in your room.

"Do you have a lot of work to do today, angel?", he asked, kissing your naked shoulder as he looked at the screen. For his life, he couldn't understand half of what you had written in there, let alone actually do any of the smart tasks you had in there.

"It's not too bad - it's the administrative boring stuff that I actually enjoy doing", you admitted. There wasn't much to it, and while your colleagues found it boring, you found comfort on the sequential and system like steps.

"I'm going then - call me if you need anything, okay?", he kissed the top of your head, "I love you".

"I love you too, Lan - enjoy yourself!", you kissed him back before he grabbed his things and left the room.

It certainly wasn't something you did for every race, but whenever it did, you'd fly in earlier with Lando and work remotely whenever he had his own duties and activities.

After King's Day, you and Lando flew over to Miami, the sunshine greeting you to contrast with the gloomy days you had back home. Warm weather always made you feel happier and you welcomed the golden hues on your skin after spending the first two days basking in eachother's presence by the pool and walks along the beach.

By the time Lando came back, he was met with you putting your laptop back into your backpack, "all done for today, beautiful?".

"Yes - for the week actually! There was a meeting that was cancelled and the other was pushed for next week, so I went ahead with the rest and it's all done!", you smiled, "I was about to shower when you texted saying that you were on your way back".

"You were waiting for me? Such a good girl", Lando whispered on your ear after wrapping his arms around your towell covered body, "let's go then", he pulled you with him.

After a shower filled with soft touches that were a thin line away from teasing, you both got ready for dinner, meeting the rest of the group at the restaurant.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?", Mark asked Lando once you were already enjoying your meal.

"What's tomorrow?", you questioned.

"I'm going the yoga class with Hilton - actually, you can come to that now that you don't have the meeting anymore", your boyfriend suggested, "you're a good... yoga practising person".

"That one on the beach? Am I allowed to go?", you asked. You wouldn't mind having a muscle stretching session.

"I'm sure they can put a mat down for you", Mark offered, "I'll text them about it".

"Lando will just get distracted by you and fall on his face - at least you can add to that plaster", Oscar joked before taking a sip of his water and earning himself a kick in the shin from your boyfriend.

"My girlfriend is actually quite good - I asked her to teach me some of this stuff because i didn't want to be too bad at it", Lando admitted, winking at you while he dusted the sand off of his fingers.

So far, the class was one of the funniest videos you've ever watched Lando record. He was really taking on the job and the part seriously, answering Alli with all of the lines you had told him about yesterday. Since you were sitting further at the back, you could giggle freely at his antics, stealing quick looks from eachother every chance you could.

"Look at this excellent form!", Alli complimented as she watched the rest of the class.

"She's talking about me, not you guys - me!", Lando chirped in as he stretched his arms up.

"Now this one is really good to stretch your hips", Ali added as she moved into a different position.

"Work on this one, lovie!", Lando shouted at you, "but be careful, okay?", he ensured as he looked to see if you were doing it well.

"I'm good, Lan, thank you!", you giggled, shaking your head before changing your feet position on the mat.

"Are you afraid of the sand?", Alli asked.

"I don't like the sand, no", Lando snickered, swatting the grains away from his hands, "Y/N will tell you all about it since she's always making fun of me because of it - she's lucky she's cute otherwise I might get mad", he argued half jokingly.

As the crew tidied the area, Lando crept up behind you, hugging your waist and pulling you to his chest, "did you like it, love?".

"It was nice, yes - my back and hips feel better actually", you smiled, resting your hands on top of his around your tummy.

"That's good", he placed a soft kiss on your neck, "how about we go and take advantage of that then?", he whispered.

"Lan, we're outside and we were doing yoga!", you scolded softly despite the goosebumps erupting on your skin. The warm Miami air didn't have anything to do with that reaction, so Lando knew you were just as bad as he was.

"We'll go to our room, of course - you look so good in these leggings and this top", he turned you around to face his chest, his hands grabbing a handful of your hips and butt, "I can tell you want it too", he smirked.

Playing coy, you fiddled with the string of his hoodie. How he was wearing it under this sun and warmth, you had no idea, but it would be a plus to touch and admire his body underneath it.

"You don't need to do anything else?", you asked. Despite your desire, you would never do anything that go between his work duties.

"No, I'm free for the rest of the day", he smiled.

As soon as you got the okay to leave and call it a day, Lando was a man on a mission to spoil you and let you lose yourselves in eachother.

Media day was usually the quietest day, but given the media and celebrity attention the paddock got for this Grand Prix, it was quite packed and action filled.

"Hello handsome", you greeted Lando once he came to meet you in the lounge for some lunch.

"I'm tired and I haven't done any racing yet", he muttered, "the social media team made me film this video which I think you'll like", he said, getting his phone from his pocket and showing it to you.

"Aren't we full of ourselves, hm? It's a video of your handsome face", you pointed out teasingly, kissing his cheek before watching it again.

"Are you saying you don't like it? If you didn't like it, you wouldn't have watched it again and again", Lando tickled, ending up having to hold your back so you wouldn't fall to the ground.

"You look very handsome, baby", you agreed with him, catching your breath as you sat on his lap.

"We also met Jimmy Butler and the team brought one of the trophies out - it was so cool, look!", he showed you on his phone, flickering through his gallery.

The first sprint qualifying session gave the team a 1-2, followed by Lando's pole position for the second session was applauded by everyone in the garage, "I'm not sure how it's going to be with the compound change though, but everyone else is also changing so we'll see", Mark observed.

The car seemed to skid away slightly, the grip level from the new tire not allowing Lando a smooth turn as you watched his on-board for the third and last qualifying session.

"I'm happy with everything, just not one thing", you heard Lando say in the post qualifying interviews.

You didn't get to see him before he went to the media pen, so you couldn't whisper sweet words to him before he went out there. Not that he would listen to them too much anyway. If there was something you learned over the years is that you should let him come to you, no matter how much you wanted to hold him in your arms.

He was always too hard on himself and it was no different after this qualifying. You waited around for him, chatting with some of the team members while you did so to pass the time.

"Lando!", you waved, calling him so he could notice you.

"I need to go to my driver's room", he offered his hand out for you to hold and follow him.

Once you were inside, you wrapped your arms around Lando's neck, kissing his neck multiple times and rubbing his back.

"I can't believe I did that? Not even a rookie would've done that shitshow, it's like I forgot how to drive", Lando muttered, shaking his head.

"Everyone struggled with the grip Lando, they were either eating up their tires or squiding away", you reasoned with him, "I don't think any of the guys thought they had a good lap".

"Mine surely wasn't", Lando scoffed.

"Hey, look at me", you said sternly, cupping his face in your hands to make sure he wasn't looking elsewhere.

You had to let him come to you, but that didn't mean you couldn't give him a piece of your mind first.

"You have been with this team since you were a kid, Lando, and everyone inside this hospitality is rooting for you, bad day or good day, everyone has your back, and as well as you don't win on your own, you don't lose or get a bad result on your own. Everyone out there is supporting you and no one thinks you're a failure or a bad driver", you stated.

You knew what was going on inside his head, Lando reasoned with himself - there was no point in lying to you or saying that he wasn't feeling like that when you could practically read him like a book.

"You're only as good as your last race, Y/N that's how this sport works", Lando offered.

"Then let's make this one count - the weekend has barely begun", you rubbed his cheek.

"I have to go to debrief", Lando mumbled, looking down before he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, thank you", he whispered, squeezing your wrists before kissing them too.

"I love you too, all of you and everything that you do", you winked before he left his driver's room.

As soon as all of his duties were taken care of, you went back to the hotel, deciding to stay in for the night after a long shower.

"Come here so I can play with your hair and magically pull away all of those bad thoughts going on inside there", you smiled, finally sitting down on the bed.

Lando didn't want to seem needy or clingy, but every time you reached for the body moisturiser to scoop some of it out and rub it on your skin, he felt himself deflate a little, having to wait a little more to be able to touch you.

Crawling to your hold, your boyfriend rested his head on your chest as his arms circled your waist, feeling your fingers do as you had told him.

"Do you think tomorrow will be better?", he muttered.

"I don't know for sure, but I hope so", you answered honestly, "you deserve a good result tomorrow, you deserve all the good things, love", you added.

"I don't deserve you", he mumbled, looking up at you.

"You do, Lando", you kissed his forehead.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me", he stated, "whether I deserve you or not is another ballgame, but I hope you never leave me".

"It's not on my plans, no", you chuckled despite the seriousness of your words, "do you know what is though? Sleep, because tomorrow you have a big day", you kissed his lips, "go to sleep, baby".

"I love you, baby - sweet dreams", Lando whispered.

"They always are when you're here with me", you murmured.

"Fucking hell", you groaned, "is he staying out?", you wondered outloud.

The team radio with the veredict came in quickly, deciding that the risk they would be getting into by continuing the race and potentially worsening whatever damage the car had was not worth the points that would be up for grabs. Like so, they would retire the car, so Lando jumped out of the car and crossed the track.

"He shouldn't have done that", you muttered, noticing the other people around you looking at you curiously. Most of them were paddock guests who you had never seen before, so you excused yourself as politely as you could, waiting for Lando to come back from the pitwall and into the garage.

He exchanged a few words with the team before he approached you.

"I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted - do you want me to fight anyone?", you tried to get a smile out of him.

"Sometimes these things happen, there was nothing I could do", he kissed your forehead, "they're bringing the car back but it seems to have not been that bad - I was worried about the suspension damage but it doesn't look too bad from what they can see on the computer", he offered, "I need to go to the media pen, lovie".

"Go go, I'll be here if you need anything", you smiled, feeling him squeeze your hand in his before he found the team member he was supposed to go with.

A couple of hours later, race qualifying rolled around and despite P5 still being a good position, you could see that Lando was struggling a little bit and he would surely blame himself on his lack of skills.

"Is he coming straight here or the media pen?", Ria asked you.

"I'm not sure", you mumbled, looking around to check for any signs of where your boyfriend would be headed.

When Lando came back to the garage, you were the first person he looked for.

"Hello hello", he said, squeezing your hand once more before greeting the rest of the group.

"That was not bad, P5 means a lot is up for grabs still", you tried, not really sensing the mood he was in which was unusual for you.

"It felt better yesterday, we still have to check about the changes we made and decided what to keep and what to undo", Lando offered without a prominent emotion on his tone.

"I'll be here when you're back", you told him.

"I still have the debrief and I'm staying as long as I can", he stated, "you can go to the hotel if you want to".

"I'll wait here", you kissed his cheek before letting him go.

His mood wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't the worst you had ever seen it, so you had to make do for now. Getting your book from your bag, you went up to find yourself a spot in the lounge since Ria told you they would be going back to the hotel.

"Are you ready to go?", Lando announced his presence a couple of hours later, stepping closer to you with his backpack on his back already.

"Yes", you said, putting the book back and getting up, "What is that?", you wondered as you pointed to the envelope on his hand.

"A fine for crossing the track - twenty-five thousand euros because I got out on my own, and it's that little if I don't do anything else again", he shook his head, "do you want to have dinner out or in the room?".

"Whichever way you prefer, handsome", you replied earnestly.

"Are you doing it because you feel pity for me? Is that why you're that quiet and following my lead to whatever I say?", he mused, letting his insecurities get the best of him, "because I told you, it happens and I'm fine".

"It could never be out of pity when it is, always, out of love, Lando", you smiled, pecking his lips and heading to the car so you could make your way back to the hotel.

Lando woke up earlier than he expected considering how tired he had been, sensing your even breathing pattern next to him. His mind filled with strategies, outcomes and potential situations that could arise, so he definitely wasn't sleeping until nightime.

"Good morning", you surprised him as he didn't think you were awake yet, your eyes greeting him as he turned around to face you.

"Good morning, lovie", he smiled, getting your hand from under the pillow and kissing your knuckles, "you're awake already?".

"Couldn't sleep anymore - you?", you mused.

"Same - means we can have some morning snuggles", Lando offered as he pulled you closer to him.

"Do you want to talk about the race?", you mumbled after you kissed his lips.

"You know me too well, don't you?", he chuckled, kissing you again while he traced patterns on your waist.

"We've been dating for nearly seven years - it would be a little weird if I didn't", you pursed your lips jokingly.

"I don't know, I keep thinking about all the things that can go wrong and what I can do in that situation - P5 isn't bad but I'm not sure I can extract all of it", he sighed.

"You're too hard on yourself", you mused, "there hasn't been a challenge that you didn't want to face, you never backed down from it and it's not something you're going to start doing now, baby", you stated.

"Do you think I have it?", he mused. He wasn't sure what it meant, but right now he didn't know anything.

"Of course you do, it will come to you, my love", you tried to build his confidence up, "you're such an amazing, skilled driver, you climbed up the ladder on your merit, and your team is backing you up. With some work there, that podium can be yours, Lando".

"I don't know", he tsked still.

"Well, I do know, so you'll have to trust me", you moved under the sheets, supporting your torso on your hands so you could hover over Lando, "this one is for when you'll start doubting yourself", you kissed above his left eyebrow, "this one is in case you need a little push", you kissed his right eyebrow, "this here is for good luck", you kissed his forehead, "this one here is because you are the best driver out there", you kissed his nose, "this one is for how much you deserve to be on that podium", you kissed his cheek, letting your eyelashes tickle him, "This is for the amazing person that you are", you kissed his jaw, "And this one is for how much I love you and how proud I am of you", you landed a kiss on his lips, letting yours melt into his to show you just how much you meant all those words.

Lando felt loved unconditionally. There were no better words to describe what he felt. No matter what he delivered on track, you were always there for him. To congratulate him when things went well and to comfort him when he needed. It didn't matter if he was P1 or P20, your love and affection was a constant in his life.

"I never want to know what life is like without you by my side", Lando cupped your cheek, rubbing the skin.

"I'm not going anywhere", you promised.

You stayed in bed until the alarm rang, then getting ready to go to the track. Lando kissed your temple before he went to the debrief meeting, leaving you to grab a cool drink to deal with the Miami heat.

"I love you, be safe out there", you smiled, kissing over his left eyebrow.

"I could do with a little more luck", he admitted, blood rushing to his cheeks as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his forehead like you had that morning in bed.

Lando continued getting ready while you occupied your spot on the garage, giving him a little wave before he went to the grid.

"He seems hopeful today", Mark nudged your shoulder as he sat next to you, "I don't suppose you have something to do with it", he smirked.

"What do you mean?", you wondered.

"Yesterday he wasn't exactly cheerful, but he walked into the debrief saying that today was a day full of opportunities", he clarified.

"Just helped him see the other side of the coin", you blushed at his assumption.

The race got off to a bumpy start, making you hiss as soon as you watched the cars get through unharmed, "that was a close call", you muttered.

Just as Lando had set the fastest lap, you watched Max go outside of the track slightly and hit the cone and later giving Oscar first place since he needed to pit, "the car pace looks good, doesn't it?", Jon told you.

"Oscar is coming to the pit and Max is right behind Lando", you muttered as you heard your boyfriend's radio and watched the mechanics get ready with the new tires for Oscar.

By lap thirty, still under the safety car, Lando was the one to pit and you couldn't help but do the math, "He's going to come out at the front, isn't he?", you looked at Jon and Mark, wanting to check your calculations right.

"Yes, look at him go", Jon pointed to the screen.

From then on, your heart beat as fast as it ever had, your eyes focusing on the gap between Lando and Max as your leg bounced up and down.

"Y/N, you should take it easy", Jon said, "you're going to work yourself up and it won't be good", he noticed. The way your eyes watched the race combined with the heat, your innate lack of water intake and the way your blood pressure seemed to be going, his worry was genuine.

"Mas just said on his radio that he's struggling with his car", Mark said as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't jinx it, don't jinx it", you whispered as you looked at everyone else around you.

Everyone shared the nerves you felt, everyone held on to see what was happening while keeping an eye on Oscar's brilliant drive after all that came his way.

"Should have dated an accountant", you mumbled before getting up, pacing around the small area once you made sure you weren't annoying people too much and not blocking anyone's view, "my heart wouldn't be like this", you took a deep breath as the last five laps warning came on the screen.

"Love how Oscar is the one with the fastest lap all the way down there - it's such a shame, he deserved more", you pointed out in an attempt of distracting yourself.

"Three laps!", someone yelled.

As you saw the rush to the checkered flag and your boyfriend's car be the first one to cross it, the garage and pitwall erupted in celebration.

"HE WON! HE WON! LANDO WON!", you yelled, crying into your hands after the initial shock wore off, Mark and Jon hugging you as they celebrated, "this is amazing? Aren't you amazed?", you yelled.

Lando's screams and laughs filled your ears as you listened closely to your boyfriend's first reactions after crossing the finish line on his first win, the pout being replaced with a massive grin even though you were still crying happy tears, "we did it, Will! We did it!", he boasted.

Once you were allowed, you joined the rest of the team and ran to Parc Fermé, stopping by Natalie once she spotted you for a quick hug.

"Will! Will! Will!", you called your boyfriend's race engineer once the team kindly let you go to the front, "Congratulations!", you hugged him, "I'm so happy!!", you squealed as he laughed.

Your phone rang with a FaceTime call coming from Max, "Hiiiii!", you beamed.

"Are you at the front?", he asked, "he did it, Y/N, he fucking did it! I'm going to add Adam here, just let me go here...", he tapped his screen until you noticed a new square forming on your phone.

"Hiii!", Adam and Cisca accepted the call quickly, "Y/N! Where are you now?", Cisca asked.

"I'm at the front here, slightly on the side!", you yelled as you showed them the number four car park in front of the number one plaque, "Look at him!", you squealed.

Lando was quick to get out safely, celebrating his first position and getting weighed in before taking his helmet off, leaving it on the ground and diving into the team who congratulated him enthusiastically.

"He's so happy and he has his big smile that makes his eyes crinkly!", you cheered as you stood next to Mark, making sure you didn't get shoved or pushed around too much.

"She and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

"He's very lucky to have you, Y/N", Adam agreed before you saw Flo and Cisca.

"Lando No wins no more, hey? Y/N, have you seen him? He must be so ecstatic!", Flo offered.

"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered, "I think the guys are putting him back down", you mused.

"Dude! Broken Rib time!", Zak yells once Lando was back on the floor, hugging your boyfriend before Andrea did the same.

"Now make room for the missus - she also gets to hug him all in one piece", the italian engineer encouraged while he helped you with the barrier.

Seeing Lando was enough to get your eyes to water again, not caring about hitting your phone on his back once he pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"I'm so proud of you, baby, you drove brilliantly out there", you let out, kissing his skin before cupping his face with both hands once Zak took your phone away from you, "you're a race winner, Lan, you're incredible and I love you so so so much", you told him before smashing your lips on his.

"Did the microphone pick that up?", Zak asked everyone on FaceTime after waving at them.

"It did - they're the cutest, I told you! I'm team Lando-Y/N until the end of time", Flo chuckled as she watched you and Lando look at eachother as if there was no one else around.

"I love you, babygirl", your boyfriend gave you a big smile, "this is for the team, for my family, my friends and for you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N!", he said as he walked back with the FIA staff member that was guiding him to the cool down room.

Getting your phone back, the mechanics let you stand at the front with Will who gave you your phone back, "I'm back, the crybaby is back", you stated, wiping your cheeks.

"Mum is no better, Y/N, don't worry about that", Flo joked as you watched Cisca crying too.

"You and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

At the podium celebrations, you grabbed a good spot to watch your boyfriend finally go on the highest step, accepting a hug from everyone who came to offer their congratulation on your boyfriend's achievement.

"You do know we are watching on TV, right?", Max wondered as you waited for the call for Lando to step on the podium.

"Of course I know - I'd feel bad for you if you were actually paying attention to what I've pointing the camera at -, I just need your company because I think I've cried all the tears I have in me and if you're not here with me, even if figuratively, I might fall apart again and that won't be good", you reasoned as you switched the camer around to show your face again.

Hearing the anthem and watching Lando raise his face up to the sun added magic to the serene moment until they sprayed the champagne between them, Lando saving some from his bottle to try and get the rest of the team too.

After all the media content was take care of, you and Lando headed back to the hotel ao you could get ready for dinner.

"You have a really big smile on your face, Y/N", Lando pointed out as you showered together.

"Look who's saying it", you blushed, grabbing his jaw so you could kiss him, "I'm so happy and so proud of you Lando, it doesn't fit inside my heart or my body what I'm feeling right now".

"I can't believe it still", he mused as his hands found themselves on your naked waist, "thank you for being here - today and every day you're with me", he joined your foreheads.

Dinner was lovely and you left to the party straight after, meeting up with Max once you were inside and in the reserved area. You danced all night along attached to your boyfriend who didn't seem to want to let you go, teeth nipping at the skin on your neck.

"Do you want another one, baby?", Lando asked and you shook your head no, kissing his lips.

"I'm good, Lan", you smiled, twirling him and kissing his lips.

"You two could stop fawning over eachtoher, you know? Y/N didn't rest until the whole paddock was informed of your win, as if they hadn't watched it happen and now this?", he chuckled playfully, "you two make me sick!".

"Can't help it if I'm proud of Lando!", you stuck your tongue out at him.

When you left the club to go back to the hotel, Lando walked with you on his arms with your back to his chest, allowing you to walk on your legs still but his rush setting the pace you were doing it with.

"Lando!", you squealed as you balanced yourself, holding on to his arms like your life depended on them "we're are we going?".

"I'm taking you to our room, put the no disturb sign outside and have my way with you in any way you allow me to", he smirked

"Our flight leaves in a couple of hours", you reasoned, a big smile on your face mirroring your boyfriend's.

"Then I'm going to take advantage of those hours we have left - I can't wait until we get home and what I want to do with you is not mile high club appropriate", he winked, "I'm a race winner, babygirl, and the celebrations are just getting started", your boyfriend said, tapping your butt once again.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you

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mdzsartreblogs · 2 years ago

Text

Recognizing AI Generated Images, Danmei Edition

Heyo, @unforth here! I run some danmei art blogs (@mdzsartreblogs, @tgcfartreblogs, @svsssartreblogs, @zhenhunartreblogs, @erhaartreblogs, @dmbjartreblogs, @tykartreblogs, and @cnovelartreblogs) which means I see a LOT of danmei art, and I go through the main fandom tags more-or-less every day.

Today, for the first time, I spotted someone posting AI-generated images (I refuse to call them AI "art" - and to be clear, that's correct of me, because at least in the US it literally LEGALLY isn't art) without any label indicating they were AI generated. I am not necessarily against the existence of AI-generated images (though really...considering all the legal issues and the risks of misuse, I'm basically against them); I think they potentially have uses in certain contexts (such as for making references) and I also think that regardless of our opinions, we're stuck with them, but they're also clearly not art and I don't reblog them to the art side blogs.

The images I spotted today had multiple "tells," but they were still accumulating notes, and I thought it might be a good moment to step back and point out some of the more obvious tells because my sense is that a LOT of people are against AI-generated images being treated as art, and that these people wouldn't want to support an AI-generator user who tried to foist off their work as actual artwork, but that people don't actually necessarily know how to IDENTIFY those works and therefore can inadvertently reblog works that they'd never support if they were correctly identified. (Similar to how the person who reposts and says "credit to the artist" is an asshole but they're not the same as someone who reposts without any credit at all and goes out of their way to make it look like they ARE the artist when they're not).

Toward that end, I've downloaded all the images I spotted on this person's account and I'm going to use them to highlight the things that led me to think they were AI art - they posted a total of 5 images to a few major danmei tags the last couple days, and several other images not to specific fandoms (I examined 8 images total). The first couple I was suspicious, but it wasn't til this morning that I spotted one so obvious that it couldn't be anything BUT AI art. I am NOT going to name the person who did this. The purpose of this post is purely educational. I have no interest whatsoever in bullying one rando. Please don't try to identify them; who they are is genuinely irrelevant, what matters is learning how to recognize AI art in general and not spreading it around, just like the goal of education about reposting is to help make sure that people who repost don't get notes on their theft, to help people recognize the signs so that the incentive to be dishonest about this stuff is removed.

But first: Why is treating AI-generated images as art bad?

I'm no expert and this won't be exhaustive, but I do think it's important to first discuss why this matters.

On the surface, it's PERHAPS harmless for someone to post AI-generated images provided that the image is clearly labeled as AI-generated. I say "perhaps" because in the end, as far as I'm aware, there isn't a single AI-generation engine that's built on legally-sourced artwork. Every AI (again, to the best of my knowledge) has been trained using copyrighted images usually without the permission of the artists. Indeed, this is the source of multiple current lawsuits. (and another)

But putting that aside (as if it can be put aside that AI image generators are literally unethically built), it's still problematic to support the images being treated as art. Artists spend thousands of hours learning their craft, honing it, sharing their creations, building their audiences. This is what they sell when they offer commissions, prints, etc. This can never be replicated by a computer, and to treat an AI-generated image as in any way equivalent is honestly rude, inappropriate, disgusting imo. This isn't "harmless"; supporting AI image creation engines is damaging to real people and their actual livelihoods. Like, the images might be beautiful, but they're not art. I'm honestly dreading someone managing to convince fandom that their AI-generated works are actual art, and then cashing in on commissions, prints, etc., because people can't be fussed to learn the difference. We really can't let this happen, guys. Fanartists are one of the most vibrant, important, prominent groups in all our fandoms, and we have to support them and do our part to protect them.

As if those two points aren't enough, there's already growing evidence that AI-generated works are being used to further propagandists. There are false images circulating of violence at protests, deep-fakes of various kinds that are helping the worst elements of society to push their horrid agendas. As long as that's a facet of AI-generated works, they'll always be dangerous.

I could go on, but really this isn't the main point of my post and I don't want to get bogged down. Other people have said more eloquently than I why AI-generated images are bad. Read those. (I tried to find a good one to link but sadly failed; if anyone knows a good post, feel free to send it and I'll add the link to the post).

Basically: I think a legally trained AI-image generator that had built-in clear watermarks could be a fun toy for people who want reference images or just to play with making pseudo-art. But...that's not what we have, and what we do have is built on theft and supports dystopia so, uh. Yeah fuck AI-generated images.

How to recognize AI-Generated Images Made in an Eastern Danmei Art Style

NOTE: I LEARNED ALL THE BASIC ON SPOTTING AI-GENERATED IMAGES FROM THIS POST. I'll own I still kinda had the wool over my eyes until I read that post - I knew AI stuff was out there but I hadn't really looked closely enough to have my eyes open for specific signs. Reading that entire post taught me a lot, and what I learned is the foundation of this post.

This post shouldn't be treated as a universal guide. I'm specifically looking at the tells on the kind of art that people in danmei fandoms often see coming from Weibo and other Chinese, Japanese, and Korean platforms, works made by real artists. For example, the work of Foxking (狐狸大王a), kokirapsd, and Changyang (who is an official artist for MDZS, TGCF, and other danmei works). This work shares a smooth use of color, an aim toward a certain flavor of realism, an ethereal quality to the lighting, and many other features. (Disclaimer: I am not an artist. Putting things in arty terms is really not my forte. Sorry.)

So, that's what these AI-generated images are emulating. And on the surface, they look good! Like...

...that's uncontestably a pretty picture (the white box is covering the "artist's" watermark.) And on a glance, it doesn't necessarily scream "AI generated"! But the devil is in the details, and the details are what this post is about. And that picture? Is definitely AI generated.

This post is based on 8 works I grabbed from a single person's account, all posted as their own work and watermarked as such. Some of the things that are giveaways only really show when looking at multiple pieces. I'm gonna start with those, and then I'll highlight some of the specifics I spotted that caused me to go from "suspicious" to "oh yeah no these are definitely not art."

Sign 1: all the images are the exact same size. I mean, to the pixel: 512 x 682 pixels (or 682 x 512, depending on landscape or portrait orientation). This makes zero sense. Why would an artist trim all their pieces to that size? It's not the ideal Tumblr display size (that's 500 x 750 pixels). If you check any actual artist's page and look at the full-size of several of their images, they'll all be different sizes as they trimmed, refined, and otherwise targeted around their original canvas size to get the results they wanted.

Sign 2: pixelated. At the shrunken size displayed on, say, a mobile Tumblr feed, the image looks fine, but even just opening the full size upload, the whole thing is pixelated. Now, this is probably the least useful sign; a lot of artists reduce the resolution/dpi/etc. on their uploaded works so that people don't steal them. But, taken in conjunction with everything else, it's definitely a sign.

Those are the two most obvious overall things - the things I didn't notice until I looked at all the uploads. The specifics are really what tells, though. Which leads to...

Sign 3: the overall work appears to have a very high degree of polish, as if it were made by an artist who really really knows what they're doing, but on inspection - sometimes even on really, REALLY cursory inspect - the details make zero sense and reflect the kinds of mistakes that a real artist would never make.

So, here's the image that I saw that "gave it away" to me, and caused me to re-examine the images that had first struck me as off but that I hadn't been able to immediately put my finger on the problem. I've circled some of the spots that are flagrant.

Do you see yet? Yes? Awesome, you're getting it. No? Okay, let's go point by point, with close ups.

Sign 4: HANDS. Hands are currently AI's biggest weakness, though they've been getting better quickly and honestly that's terrifying. But whatever AI generated this picture clearly doesn't get hands yet, because that hand is truly an eldritch horror. Look at this thing:

It has two palms. It has seven fingers. It's basically two hands overlaid over each other, except one of those hands only has four fingers and the other has three. Seeing this hand was how I went from "umm...maybe they're fake? Maybe they're not???" to "oh god why is ANYONE reblogging this when it's this obvious?" WATCH THE HANDS. (Go back up to that first one posted and look at the hand, you'll see. Or just look right below at this crop.) Here's some other hands:

Sign 5: Hair and shadows. Once I started inspecting these images, the shadows of the hair on the face was one of the things that was most consistently fucked up across all the uploaded pictures. Take a look:

There's shadows of tendrils on the forehead, but there's no corresponding hair that could possibly have made those shadows. Likewise there's a whole bunch of shadows on the cheeks. Where are those coming from? There's no possible source in the rest of the image. Here's some other hair with unrelated wonky shadows:

Sign 6: Decorative motifs that are really just meaningless squiggles. Like, artists, especially those who make fanart, put actual thought into what the small motifs are on their works. Like, in TGCF, an artist will often use a butterfly motif or a flower petal motif to reflect things about the characters. An AI, though, can only approximate a pattern and it can't imbue those with meanings. So you end up with this:

What is that? It's nothing, that's what. It's a bunch of squiggles. Here's some other meaningless squiggle motifs (and a more zoomed-in version of the one just above):

Sign 7: closely related to meaningless squiggle motifs is motifs that DO look like something, but aren't followed through in any way that makes sense. For example, an outer garment where the motifs on the left and the right shoulder/chest are completely different, or a piece of cloth that's supposed to be all one piece but that that has different patterns on different sections of it. Both of these happen in the example piece, see?

The first images on the top left is the left and right shoulder side by side. The right side has a scalloped edge; the left doesn't. Likewise, in the right top picture, you can see the two under-robe lapels; one has a gold decoration and the other doesn't. And then the third/bottom image shows three sections of the veil. One (on the left) has that kind of blue arcy decoration, which doesn't follow the folds of the cloth very well and looks weird and appears at one point to be OVER the hair instead of behind it. The second, on top of the bottom images, shows a similar motif, except now it's gold, and it looks more like a hair decoration than like part of the veil. The third is also part of the same veil but it has no decorations at all. Nothing about this makes any sense whatsoever. Why would any artist intentionally do it that way? Or, more specifically, why would any artist who has this apparent level of technical skill ever make a mistake like this?

They wouldn't.

Some more nonsensical patterns, bad mirrors, etc. (I often put left/right shoulders side by side so that it'd be clearer, sorry if it's weird):

Sign 8: bizarre architecture, weird furniture, etc. Most of the images I'm examining for this post have only partial backgrounds, so it's hard to really focus on this, but it's something that the post I linked (this one) talks about a lot. So, like, an artist will put actual thought into how their construction works, but an AI won't because an AI can't. There's no background in my main example image, but take a look at this from another of my images:

On a glance it's beautiful. On a few seconds actually staring it's just fucking bizarre. The part of the ceiling on the right appears to be domed maybe? But then there's a hard angle, then another. The windows on the right have lots of panes, but then the one on the middle-left is just a single panel, and the ones on the far left have a complete different pane model. Meanwhile, also on the left side at the middle, there's that dark gray...something...with an arch that mimics the background arches except it goes no where, connects to nothing, and has no apparent relationship to anything else going on architecturally. And, while the ceiling curves, the back wall is straight AND shows more arches in the background even though the ceiling looks to end. And yes, some of this is possible architecture, but taken as a whole, it's just gibberish. Why would anyone who paints THAT WELL paint a building to look like THAT? They wouldn't. It's nonsense. It's the art equivalent of word salad. When we look at a sentence and it's like "dog makes a rhythmical salad to betray on the frame time plot" it almost resembles something that might mean something but it's clearly nonsense. This background is that sentence, as art.

Sign 9: all kinds of little things that make zero sense. In the example image, I circled where a section of the hair goes BELOW the inner robe. That's not impossible but it just makes zero sense. As with many of these, it's the kind of thing that taken alone, I'd probably just think "well, that was A Choice," but combined with all the other weird things it stands out as another sign that something here is really, really off. Here's a collection of similar "wtf?" moments I spotted across the images I looked at (I'm worried I'm gonna hit the Tumblr image cap, hence throwing these all in one, lol.)

You have to remember that an actual artist will do things for a reason. And we, as viewers, are so used to viewing art with that in mind that we often fill in reasons even when there aren't. Like, in the image just about this, I said, "what the heck are these flowers growing on?" And honestly, I COULD come up with explanations. But that doesn't mean it actually makes sense, and there's no REASON for it whatsoever. The theoretical same flowers are, in a different shot, growing unsupported! So...what gives??? The answer is nothing gives. Because these pieces are nothing. The AI has no reason, it's just tossing in random aesthetic pieces together in a mishmash, and the person who generated them is just re-generating and refining until they get something that looks "close enough" to what they wanted. It never was supposed to make sense, so of course it doesn't.

In conclusion...

After years of effort, artists have gotten across to most of fandom that reposts are bad, and helped us learn strategies for helping us recognize reposts, and given us an idea of what to do when we find one.

Fandom is just at the beginning of this process as it applies to AI-generated images. There's a LOT of education that has to be done - about why AI-generated images are bad (the unethical training using copyrighted images without permission is, imo, critical to understanding this), and about how to spot them, and then finally about what to do when you DO find them.

With reposts, we know "tell original artist, DCMA takedowns, etc." That's not the same with these AI-images. There's no original owner. There's no owner at all - in the US, at least, they literally cannot be copyrighted. Which is why I'm not even worrying about "credit" on this post - there's nothing stolen, cause there's nothing made. So what should you do?

Nothing. The answer is, just as the creator has essentially done nothing, you should also do nothing. Don't engage. Don't reblog. Don't commission the creator or buy their art prints. If they do it persistently and it bothers you, block them. If you see one you really like, and decide to reblog it, fine, go for it, but mark it clearly - put in the ACTUAL COMMENTS (not just in the tags!) that it's AI art, and that you thought it was pretty anyway. But honestly, it'd be better to not engage, especially since as this grows it's inevitable that some actual artists are going to start getting accused of posting AI-generated images by over-zealous people. Everyone who gets a shadow wrong isn't posting AI-generated images. A lot of these details are insanely difficult to get correct, and lots of even very skilled, accomplished artists, if you go over their work with a magnifying glass you're going to find at least some of these things, some weirdnesses that make no sense, some shadows that are off, some fingers that are just ugh (really, getting hands wrong is so relatable. hands are the fucking worst). It's not about "this is bad art/not art because the hand is wrong," it's specifically about the ways that it's wrong, the way a computer randomly throws pieces together versus how actual people make actual mistakes. It's all of the little signs taken as a whole to say "no one who could produce a piece that, on the surface, looks this nice, could possibly make THIS MANY small 'mistakes.'"

The absolute best thing you can do if you see AI-generated images being treated as real art is just nothing. Support actual artists you love, and don't spread the fakes.

Thanks for your time, everyone. Good luck avoiding AI-generated pieces in the future, please signal boost this, and feel free to get in touch if you think I can help you with anything related to this.

#resources

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the-whumpening · 3 months ago

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So I'm certainly putting a target on my back for this but:

An artist/writer in the whump community has recently been harassed off the platform after his blogs have been repeatedly (and falsely) mass reported and banned. Over and over, he tried to follow the terms of service as best he could and made certain to properly tag and label all his content. And over and over, he would get bombarded with hateful anons and false reports.

So, full disclosure: I support him, and I support his right to make whatever content he wants and post whatever abides by the ToS. I support his right to post links to other websites where he can post stuff tumblr doesn't allow.

I don't care that you (the general you) think some of the themes and scenarios he writes are disgusting. I don't care if they would be illegal in real life. Frankly, there's plenty of illegal and immoral activities in pretty much every fictional story ever. That's how fiction works.

Some people write about "questionable" subjects to process their own personal experience with them. Some people find it arousing. Some people just enjoy reading about it without having any kind of complicated feelings. All of those things are fine, actually, and it's pretty fuckin weird to attack people about it.

It's fiction. It's make-believe. It's your job as a viewer/reader to decide what you personally can and cannot handle, not the job of creators to limit what they make. Should it always be tagged appropriately? Absolutely, that's part of allowing your audience to make an informed choice. Do I always use the "mature" label on here for my content? No, I don't. That's not the standard in the whump community, and it makes your blog a target for tumblr to ban outright without cause. But I do hide everything questionable below a read-more link and add appropriate tags for filtering. That's a balance you have to find in a censorship-heavy environment like the modern internet, and we don't always make the right choices.

I think that my friend (who I won't tag or mention by name) did the best he could to find that balance. If that makes me a target, so be it. I'll keep posting my "disgusting" content, and you can block me if it suits you.

#whumpblr #whump writing #writeblr #whump #whump community #not whump

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honeytonedhottie · 9 months ago

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starting and managing ur blog⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍰

so you wanna start a blog? in this post i’ll break down effective ways to start, manage and maintain a blog (from my own experience of course) i hope u find this helpful ✨

TOPIC AND IDEA ;

to have a blog you need an idea or concept about what your blog will be about. make your blog about either something that you know a lot about/are proficient in.

or blog about something that u are learning about as a way to track ur progress and learn new information. you could blog about something that you love a lot etc etc.

AESTHETIC ;

what is your aesthetic? for me it’s hyper feminine and pink and just DIVINE. when u choose and stick to an aesthetic it’ll give ur blog kind of a signature which is important for the rest of this post.

when u have an aesthetic in mind for ur blog make sure that you have plenty of pins on pinterest that mesh nicely with ur aesthetic so u can find things like headers, dividers, photos and emojis that suit the aesthetic of ur blog.

RESOURCES ;

pinterest is my holy grail for resources. there u can find headers and photos to use in ur posts to give ur audience something visually pleasing to look at while they read ur post.

what ur gonna want to start off ur blog aesthetic and theme is ;

a header

a color scheme (for coloring/bolding words. and the colors for ur blog page in general)

an informative bio

a pfp

dividers

START OFF POST IDEAS ;

if u want to run a well organized blog there are a couple posts that i think are beneficial for u to make. in fact the most important post that i think any blog should have is a MASTERLIST.

master lists are great for a multitude of things. they help ur audience to navigate ur blog easier and see all that you have to offer in one convenient tap of their finger. plus when u make navigating ur blog easy, more people will experience ur content which will mean more interactions with ur post.

not only does it help the audience but it also helps u to know what u did and didn’t post, so that u can plan effectively for the future. it’s also a fun way to see how much u posted. i recommend making a new masterlist every year or when you can’t put any more links onto it 💀. if u want a reference for a good masterlist you can check out mine right here.

CONSISTENCY ;

consistency is key in anything and everything and blogging is no exception. i recommend not blogging in a competitive nature, rather i think in order to be consistent with something like a blog you should genuinely just do it for funsies/passion and as a way to have ur own authentic creative outlet.

i don’t have a set posting schedule bcuz i don’t want blogging to feel like a chore when in reality it’s just a hobby that happened to gain an audience because people enjoyed it. and because people enjoy what i write, it in return makes me happy and wanna write more.

SIGNATURE ;

i cannot stress this enough but when u have a platform whether it’s small or big individuality sets you apart! have something that sets u apart like personalized hash-tags, a way that u talk, etc etc.

personalize hash-tags with things like emojis. also, USE UR HASHTAGS because when someone looks up something like “self improvement” your post will be what they see if u add those hashtags.

furthermore if u personalize those hashtags it sets u apart and gives ur blog a kind of brand and individuality in a way. like a signature at the end of a post.

THINGS TO KEEP TRACK OF ;

what posts you’ve done/want to do

upcoming projects or ideas that u have

how your following/interactions are growing or shrinking

how much $ u get from tips

inbox questions or dms to answer

your plans and goals

your personalized hashtags

i hope this post was helpful to anyone who has been thinking about or wants to create their own blog, i encourage you to do so ✨

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budgebuttons · 11 months ago

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There's a lot of reasonably frustrated but ultimately misdirected psa-style posting about how viewers NEED to start reblogging things rather than just liking them because that is the primary mode of post circulation on this site. The modern manifestation of this sentiment seems to miss the fact that, if you've been here for ~15 years, were here prior to, during, and after the exodus to the bird app, you already know that likes have always been more common than reblogs, that many people simply don't want to put your art on their blog, and that guilting end-users into using a microblogging site A Specific Way absolutely does not work. If it did, the trend would have shifted a decade ago. Because this conversation really is that old. Regardless, the modern discourse of how difficult it is to be Seen specifically on Tumblr isn't productive because I think it ultimately misses the reason being an artist online feels so Bad, now.

The social media era has funneled Looking At Stuff on the Internet into an economy of engagement that encourages end-users to treat everything we/they see as quick, cheap, and disposable. This is just another fun and flirty way that capitalism devalues art. It's nothing new. Trying to force masses of users to behave in a way that is healthier for the circulation of art isn't going to do anything to solve the discontent we all feel when we hurl something into the void and it is ultimately ignored. I swear up and down: A higher notes number won't feel better, either. Popularity is just as demoralizing as radio silence, but it manifests differently. Instead of 4 likes and maybe 1 reblog from Old Faithful Mutual, you get a horde of people who treat you like a content machine. You keep hoping for an impossibly Bigger Number. The notifs on the first Big Number Post haven't even settled, and people are already asking when the follow-up is coming. You get anons, but most of them are trying to passively convince you to give them More Content.

It's really, really hard to make people care about art. If there was a silver bullet for making the average person appreciate the enormity of human effort behind every beautiful thing they encounter, we would have found it centuries ago.

The best thing creatives can do for their lives online is to be friendly, or at least kind, with other creators. "Big" artists don't form in-groups because they're snobs. They find each other because they casually showed each other support, and their mutual appreciation for that Thing that wound them up in the same tag becomes a foundation for connection, and in many cases, the ever-illusive Bigger Audience as they introduce themselves to each others' circles. We get more eyes on our work by building community with each other.

Where does that leave people who are just here to look at things, not post them? I think the answer is almost identical: COMMENT!! Please, comment! The first step to engaging with art on a more meaningful level is to point out something you particularly enjoy about a given work. It can go in the replies, it can go in the tags, doesn't matter!! If you notice some symbolism or make some connection, there is all likelihood that OP put it there because they desperately wanted somebody to notice it. Let them know why you like it!

Reaching for the nebulous, impossible goal of better post circulation isn't going to make being a creator online in 2023 suck less. Meaningfully connecting with each other can, will, and does. You can make someone's day just by passingly letting them know that their effort is worth more than a number.

#budgetalks #I got to thinking about this because of fanfic actually #the proportion of comments to kudos ESPECIALLY on popular fics bums me out #especially when you open the comments and half of them are people asking for more

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

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Jealousy in Motion

SUMMARY: Tired of waiting for Damian and Rhea to make their moves, you and Jey decide to stir things up with a little game of jealousy. What starts as harmless flirting at a club quickly turns into a night of heated glances and rising tension.

WARNINGS: Teasing, Alcohol Use

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

OTHER PART(S): PART 2

TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108

The backstage area of the arena buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—wrestlers preparing for their matches, production staff rushing around, and the distant hum of the crowd filtering in through the walls.

You found yourself leaning against a storage crate backstage, your eyes drifting to Damian as he finished lacing his boots. The sight of him—tall, imposing, tattoos snaking across his arms and shoulders and back to his back—always sent a thrill through you. He was magnetic, and you had been caught in his orbit for months now. But as you watched him, the ache of wanting more twisted in your chest.

"Ready for tonight?" you asked your voice light, hoping to catch his attention.

Damian looked up, his expression as casual as ever. He offered a half-smirk, nodding. “Always am. You?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, feeling good. Maybe I’ll catch your match later, see what you beat up Dom.”

He chuckled, that deep, resonant sound that always sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, then.”

It was the same banter you’d had a hundred times. Light, playful, but never deeper. You’d heard a few people backstage gossip about how Damian seemed to have eyes for you—how he was different when you were around. But standing here now, you weren’t so sure. If he did have feelings, he never showed it in a way that mattered.

You glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then you stepped a little closer, just close enough that your arm brushed against his as you leaned in. “You know,” you started, your voice a little lower, “I’ve been thinking...”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention still on you but with the same calm, unreadable expression he always had. “About?”

You hesitated for a beat, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “About how...maybe we could hang out outside of work. You know, not just...the usual.”

There it was—your not-so-subtle hint. You felt the tension rise between you, hoping he’d finally catch on.

But Damian just chuckled again, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We hang out all the time,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms. “Just hung out with you last night, didn’t I?”

You swallowed the disappointment that settled in your stomach. Yeah, last night. When he’d snuck into your hotel room after his match, spent the night with you, and then slipped out before anyone could see. The same routine you’d been doing for three or four months. But it wasn’t enough anymore—not for you, anyway.

“Right,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “Just last night.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms as you tried to shake off the frustration that was building. Every time you hinted at the idea of something more, it was like he didn’t get it—or maybe he didn’t want to get it. And now you were starting to think that the rumors, all the whispers about him being into you, were just that: rumors.

It wasn’t that Damian wasn’t kind or caring—he was, in his own way. But you wanted more than secret rendezvous and stolen moments behind closed doors. You wanted to be his. His girlfriend. Not just the girl he came to when he needed to blow off steam.

“You know,” you started again, your voice quieter now, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your dirty little secret.”

Damian’s eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he quickly masked it with that same casual demeanor, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter. “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, offering you a grin. “You know it’s not like that.”

But you weren’t so sure anymore. You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you realized he wasn’t going to get it—not tonight, maybe not ever. “Right. It’s not like that.”

You turned away, trying to put some distance between you before the sting of rejection hit too hard. You were stuck in this endless cycle—always wanting more, always hoping he’d step up and make things real. But as the weeks that turned into months had dragged on, it was becoming painfully clear that maybe you were just the secret he kept from everyone else.

Damian stepped closer, his hand gently grazing your arm. “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. You know I care about you.”

You nodded, but the words didn’t hit the way you wanted them to. You knew he cared—but was it enough?

With one last glance at him, you gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

But deep down, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending that was enough.

The low hum of chatter echoed through the hallway as you made your way backstage after your match. The adrenaline from the night still coursed through your veins, but it wasn’t the excitement of the crowd or the rush of getting another win that had you on edge. It was Damian. Or rather, the frustrating conversation from earlier in the evening that had been bugging you ever since.

As you turned the corner, you spotted your friend Jey Uso leaning against a crate, his eyes locked down the hall where Rhea Ripley was doing an interview with Cathy Kelly. A smirk tugged at your lips as you sauntered over, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Not gonna make your move?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey’s gaze didn’t leave Rhea, but he smiled, shaking his head. “Not sure she’s even noticed, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice light but tinged with frustration.

You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned beside him. “Oh, she’s noticed, trust me.”

His eyebrow arched as he glanced your way, curious. “Yeah?”

You nodded, casting a glance down the hall at Rhea, who was still mid-interview. “We’re close. You don’t even know how many times I’ve had to listen to her talk about you in the last few weeks. Pretty sure she’s more interested than you think.”

Jey’s grin widened, but it quickly faded when his eyes flicked back to Rhea. There was something vulnerable in his expression, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you or keep playing it safe. You could see why he’d hesitate; he and Rhea had been circling each other for a while now, both giving mixed signals but never making the first big move.

Just then, Rhea’s eyes darted in your direction, and for a split second, you caught the way her face changed. She’d seen you and Jey talking, standing close, and a flicker of something unmistakable flashed in her eyes—jealousy.

A slow grin spread across your face as an idea began to form. You nudged Jey again, leaning closer as you whispered, “She’s jealous.”

He blinked, his focus snapping to you. “What?”

You nodded, motioning subtly in Rhea’s direction. “She sees us talking. I know that look.”

Jey’s eyes shifted to Rhea, and when he saw the way she was glancing at the two of you between interview questions, his grin returned. “Damn, you think?”

“I know,” you said confidently, the idea cementing in your mind now. “You going out with some of the crew after the show?”

Jey smirked, standing up straighter. “You know I keep it lit on the dance floor, baby.”

You laughed at his swagger, but your mind was already spinning. This could work. This could solve both your problems. “I’ve got an idea,” you started, lowering your voice as your eyes flicked back to Rhea and then down the hall where Damian had just passed by, his attention elsewhere.

Jey tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You leaned closer, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “We’re gonna make them jealous. You and me. A little flirting, some dancing, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. That’ll get their attention.”

Jey’s eyebrow shot up, his smile turning more playful. “You trying to stir the pot, huh?”

“I’m trying to get Damian to step up,” you said, sighing. “He’s been...distant. Or, I don’t know, maybe just not getting the hint. But I know him. He won’t like another guy getting close to me.”

Jey chuckled, crossing his arms as he considered your plan. “And Rhea? You think she’s gonna bite?”

“Oh, she will,” you assured him. “She’s already looking over here like she’s ready to step in. Trust me, once she sees you and me getting close, she’s not gonna let it slide. She’ll make her move.”

Jey thought it over for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he glanced back toward Rhea one last time. Then he smiled, that signature confident grin of his, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. If it gets her to stop playing games, I’m in.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as your plan fell into place. “Good. Pick me up at 11. Room 4112.”

Jey nodded, flashing you a wink before turning to head off, but not before you gave him one last parting shot. “And make sure you bring your A-game, Uce. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

He laughed over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I always do.”

As he walked away, you glanced back toward Rhea, who was still watching. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. The game had just begun, and tonight, things were finally going to get interesting.

The night air was cool as you walked side by side with Damian toward the parking lot, your boots crunching softly against the asphalt. The energy from the show still buzzed around the arena, but out here, it was quieter. Just you and him, under the soft glow of the streetlights. You glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed demeanor, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets. It should’ve been a perfect moment. But your frustration still simmered beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the limbo you were stuck in with him.

“So…” Damian started, breaking the silence, his voice low and casual. “I heard a few of the guys are heading to some bar after the show.” He glanced over at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “You wanna go?”

You almost smirked, but you caught yourself. Of course, now he wanted to hang out. Now that you were making moves to get his attention.

Instead, you played it off, pretending to be a little caught off guard as you reached for your keys. “Oh, uh… I’m actually already going with Jey.”

Damian stopped walking for just a second, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Jey? Like… Uso?”

You nodded with a smile, keeping your tone light. “Yeah. He asked me earlier if I wanted to go with him.”

Damian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough. You caught the flicker in his eyes, something sharp and possessive flashing behind his otherwise calm exterior. Bingo. Your plan was already starting to work. But you didn’t want to push too hard too soon. You had to play this carefully.

“But maybe I’ll see you there, though?”

Damian’s jaw tightened just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You could see the tension in his posture now, the way his jaw clenched briefly before relaxing again. This was what you had wanted—Damian’s attention. But now that you had it, there was something almost thrilling about making him stew just a little longer.

You turned to get into your rental car, turning to give him a final smile before you closed the door. “See you later, Damian.”

He nodded again, though his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did. “Yeah. See you.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Damian’s reaction was exactly what you had hoped for. The flash of jealousy, the uncertainty. He wasn’t oblivious anymore.

Tonight was only going to get more interesting.

You hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when your phone lit up with Rhea’s name. You smiled to yourself, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead. You had a feeling Damian had talked to Rhea and that was the reason for her call. Keeping one hand on the wheel, you tapped the screen to answer.

“Hey, Rhea. What’s up?”

“Hey,” she replied, her usual confident tone slightly off, a hint of something uncertain hiding underneath. “So, I heard a few of us are going out tonight after the show. You in?”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. Here we go.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going. Jey actually asked me to ride with him.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the way her brow furrowed in surprise. “Jey asked you?”

You made your voice sound casual, as if the question wasn’t loaded with the tension you knew she was feeling. “Yeah. He asked me before the show if I wanted to join him. Sounded fun, so I figured, why not?”

Rhea didn’t reply immediately, and you caught the slightest edge of jealousy creeping into her voice when she finally spoke again. “I thought you were just blowing Damian off when you said that.”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you kept your gaze on the road. “Nope, Jey actually asked me. I mean, Damian hadn’t said anything, and clubs aren’t always his thing. So I figured, why not go with someone else, right?”

You could hear her shift on the other end of the call, probably trying to find the right words to respond without giving herself away completely. “Right... I guess I just didn’t realize you two were, you know, hanging out outside of work like that.”

Your smile widened. She was trying to play it cool, but the jealousy was there, simmering just under the surface. Your plan was working, just like you hoped it would.

“Yeah, well, Jey’s seems fun to hang out with,” you said, keeping your tone as light and innocent as possible. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll see you there though?”

Rhea hesitated again, and you could hear the unspoken questions swirling in her head. “Yeah... maybe.”

You ended the call and couldn’t help but feel satisfied with how things were playing out. Damian’s possessiveness had already started to show, and now you had Rhea on edge too. The night was shaping up exactly how you planned, and it was only going to get better from here.

The thumping bass of the music hit you the moment you stepped into the club, the energy of the crowd buzzing in the air. You and Jey walked in together, fashionably late, just as you’d planned. You scanned the room, catching sight of Damian and Rhea almost immediately. They were at the bar, exactly where you hoped they’d be. Perfect.

Jey’s hand rested lightly on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd, both of you pretending not to notice the two people you were trying to get a rise out of. It was part of the plan, after all. You could feel eyes on you—probably Rhea’s, maybe even Damian’s—but you kept your focus on Jey, playing your part flawlessly.

As you reached the bar, Jey leaned in close, his voice low and playful against your ear. But also just loud enough for the two people standing next to you to hear him say it. “What you drinking tonight, baby?”

You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him as you smiled. “Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think I should start with?”

He chuckled, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he signaled the bartender. “Let’s start with something light,” he suggested, glancing down at you with a grin. “I gotta keep you in good shape for the dance floor later.”

You grin at him and pretend to reach for your purse but he reaches out and stops you. “Nah, I got you tonight, baby.”

You laughed, nudging him slightly. “You really know how to take care of a girl, Jey. That’s sweet.”

The way you said it wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t just a simple compliment, not with the way you let your fingers trail down his arm as you spoke, or the soft smile you gave him as you tilted your head just slightly, enough to let anyone watching see the ease between you two. You could feel the tension coming from behind Jey, the way Damian and Rhea were likely taking in every detail, even if they were trying to hide it.

Jey played along perfectly, his own smile widening as he leaned just a bit closer. “Sweet, huh? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy, and let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the heat from his body through his shirt. “Maybe I am.”

As the bartender handed over your drinks, Jey slid one toward you, his fingers brushing yours. You could practically feel the weight of the stares coming from behind you, and it took everything in you not to glance back at Damian and Rhea. But you knew better than to break character now. The game had only just begun.

As you lifted your drink to your lips, you felt Jey's hand lightly graze your back again, the touch casual but deliberate enough to keep up appearances. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the buzz of the club had you feeling confident, ready for whatever came next. You tilted your head, flashing Jey a smile before turning away from the bar, deciding it was time to up the ante.

With your drink in hand, you turned to leave the bar, making sure to brush close enough to Jey that it would look as if you were moving together. As you did, you caught sight of Damian and Rhea out of the corner of your eye.

Damian’s eyes were locked on you, his brow slightly furrowed, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he watched you interact with Jey. It was subtle, but you knew Damian well enough to recognize the telltale signs of his possessiveness flaring up. You let your lips curl into a smirk, satisfaction blooming in your chest. The plan was working.

Rhea was standing next to him, drink in hand, but her expression was much less controlled. Her gaze flickered between you and Jey, and there was no mistaking the spark of jealousy in her eyes. Her lips were set in a thin line, her posture stiff as she watched you practically draped against Jey. You knew that look—she didn’t like it one bit.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Jey, and as he flashed you a grin, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

Turning back to Jey, he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I think they’re starting to notice,” he whispered, the amusement in your tone unmistakable.

You chuckled, his hand resting on your hip as you reached up on your tip toes to reply. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”

You straightened, taking a slow sip of your drink before glancing back in Damian and Rhea’s direction, letting your gaze linger just long enough to make sure they saw. Damian’s dark eyes hadn’t left you, and Rhea’s fingers tightened around her glass as she muttered something under her breath to Damian.

Satisfied, you turned your attention back to Jey, the smirk still playing on your lips. “Looks like round one goes to us.”

Jey raised his glass in a silent toast, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the air was palpable now, the game in full swing. All you had to do was keep pushing the right buttons, and Damian and Rhea would break. And when they did, it was going to be so worth it.

After a few more rounds of playful banter at the bar, you felt Jey’s fingers gently brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him. His smile was easy, mischievous, as if he had something up his sleeve.

“You know what we need to do now?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What’s that?”

He straightened up, looking over toward the packed dance floor, where bodies swayed and pulsed to the heavy beat of the music. “We gotta hit the dance floor. I promised you I’d keep it lit, remember?”

You bit your lip, already anticipating what was about to happen. Glancing over to where Damian and Rhea were still standing, you noticed Damian’s eyes briefly flicker in your direction before shifting away, as if he were doing his best to act unaffected.

Perfect.

Jey reached out his hand, palm up in a silent invitation, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his. He gave it a slight tug, pulling you closer, and the two of you made your way through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor, where the music seemed to throb even louder.

As soon as you reached the middle, Jey spun you around with a playful grin and pulled you close. Your back pressed against his chest, and his hands naturally found their place on your hips, guiding you in time with the music. The moment you started moving together, everything else seemed to fall away—the lights, the noise, the crowd—it was just you and Jey, playing the game you both knew so well.

Jey leaned down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “This okay for you?”

You nodded and then leaned your head back, resting it on Jey’s shoulder. There weren’t many guys on the roster you would let hold you and touch you the way Jey was. But you trusted Jey. You knew he wouldn’t push it too far.

He then whispered into your ear, “They’re already watching. You ready for this?”

You laughed softly, your fingers resting over his hands as you started swaying together. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The two of you moved effortlessly in sync, your bodies shifting and swaying with the rhythm, close enough to leave little to the imagination for anyone watching. The heat from Jey’s hands on your waist and the feel of his body behind yours made it easy to slip into the role you needed to play, pretending to be lost in the moment, when in reality, your mind was focused on one thing—getting Damian’s attention.

Your hands glided up, grazing Jey’s forearms lightly as if you were completely comfortable with his touch. But in reality, you were simply waiting for the exact moment to strike.

With a subtle glance over your shoulder, your eyes scanned the room until they found Damian.

There he was—standing by the bar, his drink forgotten in his hand, his jaw clenched as he watched the two of you. Even from this distance, you could see the flash of frustration in his eyes, the way his posture had shifted from relaxed to tense. The possessive gleam that flickered there was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you. He wasn’t liking this at all.

Jey’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, his voice brushing your ear again, a knowing edge in his tone. “Think he’s mad yet?”

You smirked, your eyes never leaving Damian’s. “Oh, he’s definitely mad.”

As the music continued to pound, you took things up a notch. You pressed your body closer to Jey’s, your movements slowing down, becoming more deliberate, more intimate. Your hips swayed against his as his hands followed your lead, guiding your rhythm.

You let your head rest back against his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you murmured something irrelevant into his ear, loud enough for Damian to see but not hear. Jey chuckled, playing along perfectly, his lips grazing your ear as he responded, though you didn’t even need to hear the words to know you were in sync.

Finally, you couldn’t resist it any longer. You looked back across the room, and your eyes met Damian’s. His gaze was locked on yours, burning with a mix of jealousy and frustration that made your heart race. His body was tense, his grip on his drink so tight you were surprised the glass hadn’t shattered in his hand.

You smirked, letting him see just how much fun you were having, knowing that this was driving him wild. And it was working. The game you and Jey had started was finally beginning to pay off.

Damian wasn’t going to let this go much longer—you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into you, dark and heated. He was on the edge of stepping in, of making his move. And you were more than ready for it.

Jey must have sensed it too because his grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he whispered in your ear, “Any minute now.”

You nodded, your smirk widening. “He’s almost there.”

As the music pulsed around you, the tension between you and Damian crackled in the air like electricity. You could practically feel his frustration, his desire to intervene, and the satisfaction of knowing your plan was working filled you with excitement.

Before you realize it, Damian is weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on you and Jey. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, knowing that this moment is exactly what you had been waiting for. Jey, clearly noticing Damian’s approach, doesn’t hesitate. He steps back just as Damian reaches you, offering a quick nod and a knowing smile.

"Mind if I cut in?" Damian asks, his voice low but commanding, half-expecting Jey to protest. But Jey just motions toward you with a grin, as if to say, “All yours.”

With Jey stepping aside, Damian wastes no time. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you back against his solid, muscular chest. His grip is firm, possessive, and the heat of his body seeps into you as he takes control of the moment. The atmosphere shifts, and it feels as though the entire room fades away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the pulsing crowd.

Damian leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You shiver, the intimate gesture sending a thrill through you, but it’s what he says next that really makes your pulse quicken.

“You let him touch what’s mine,” he whispers, his voice laced with both frustration and desire.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his dark gaze. Your heart skips a beat, but you won’t let him get away with that statement so easily. "I didn’t know I was yours," you tease, raising an eyebrow, the challenge clear in your voice. “I thought we had a casual arrangement.”

Damian smirks, that cocky, confident grin of his flashing as he pulls you even closer, so your bodies are flush against each other. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing possessively into your skin. "Oh, you’re mine," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

You’re about to respond when Damian moves faster than you expect. In one swift motion, he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with intent. Before you can catch your breath, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and hungry. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a statement to everyone in the room, especially Jey, that you belong to him.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your mind spinning as Damian pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "You're mine. My girl."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words echoing in your ears. His hands don’t leave your body, staying firmly on your hips as if to prove his point. His eyes search yours for any hesitation, but instead of pulling away, you feel a sense of relief, the very thing you’ve been wanting for so long finally falling into place.

In that moment, the game is over. You’re no longer just his secret—you're his, for everyone to see.

As Damian’s words sink in, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you glance over toward Jey. Just in time, you catch Rhea stepping up to him, her arms snaking confidently around his neck. A smirk spreads across Jey’s face, his hands naturally resting on her waist as if they’ve been in this position before.

You watch as Rhea leans in, her lips brushing against Jey's ear to whisper something. Whatever she says makes him smile, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. It's clear that Rhea’s walls are coming down, just like Damian's did with you.

For a fleeting second, Jey looks up and your eyes meet across the room. There's no need for words—just a shared glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of victory. The plan you hatched together has worked.

You smile knowingly, feeling the weight of success settle in. Damian's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Jey's hands slide up Rhea's waist as she moves even closer to him, their chemistry undeniable.

Everything has fallen into place.

#Damian Priest #Damian Priest x reader #Damian Priest Fic #Damian Priest Fanfic #Damian Priest Fanfiction #Rhea Ripley #Rhea Ripley Fanfic #Rhea Ripley Fanfiction #Jey Uso #Jey Uso Fic #Jey Uso Fanfic #Jey Uso Fanfiction

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drtanner · 9 months ago

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You know, I think I'm starting to understand why the sharing culture on this site is such dogshit now.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I spent several solid hours going through my art and writing tags as far back as 2012 and manually deleting everything I found, including all of my own reblogs, because I don't expect my opt out from having my blogs' data scraped to be honoured, and seeing the difference in the way people interacted with my work back then and the way they interact with it now (or the way they don't interact with it at all, more specifically) was deeply and tragically enlightening.

tl;dr, despite having had a fraction of the followers back then that I have now, as well as being an objectively better artist and writer than I used to be 10+ years ago, my work travelled further and people engaged with it more, and they also sent me asks with drabble prompts and questions about my OCs all the time, whereas none of that happens at all anymore. This place was a lot more communal back in that pre-2016 era and generally a lot more rewarding and fun.

There's been plenty of posts going around over the last few years begging people to reblog because that's how this site works, but every one of those posts always winds up lousy with people saying they just click "Like" on things because they like them but not enough to put them on their own blog, or because they don't want to clutter their blog, or because tagging things is too much effort or whatever, and I'm noticing a pattern. There's something that all of these common responses have in common:

All of these people are wholly concerned with themselves and the way their blog looks, or what their blog is supposed to be for, or some other similarly entirely self-centred point of focus.

Listen. Other people have already tried to explain to you that that's not what this place is about or what this place is for or that you can make as many sideblogs as you want if you're trying to curate something specific, and they've had little success in emparting understanding to you, so I'm going to try a different approach.

Here are ten (10) benefits of reblogging that will make this site more fun and engaging for you, personally! ( b ._.)b

You get to keep the thing for yourself, but you also get to pass it along for other people to play with, too! Best of all worlds. How often do you get to keep a thing and share it?

Look in your Activity after you reblog something you enjoy to find other people who like the same things that you do! This is a terrific way to find new people to follow.

Sometimes you'll make a comment when you reblog something and later find that an awful lot of strangers are reblogging it from you directly for some reason. This is usually because someone else later down the line made a much stupider and worse comment and those strangers are now all clicking on your reblog so that they can reblog the post without that other person's stupider and worse comment on it. I like it a lot when this happens. You can get a lot of new followers this way, too!

Even if you don't have the time or spoons to play with jpegs like dolls yourself, your reblog can put the post in front of those folks who do. Playing with jpegs like dolls is half of what makes this site function; give it a bit of time, and the jpegs will cross your dash again with new additions. As it is with anything you love, set it free, and the love will come back to you one hundredfold. 💜

Look in your Activity after reblogging some art or writing to see people going nuts in the tags. You can also go nuts in the tags if you want; everyone loves seeing this when it happens, especially the artist or writer themselves.

Commenting with your reblog is like raising your hand to share your opinion with the whole room, whereas reblogging with your comment in the tags is more like whispering to the person next to you and keeping it between yourselves. Contrary to what you might have been told by others, both are perfectly fine and good and they each have their place. You can do both on the same reblog, even! Take part in the conversation!

If you're too shy to talk, reblogging without commentary is a lot like parallel play. You're all enjoying the same thing quietly together!

When you reblog things a lot, you'll start to see the same people popping up in your Activity feed all the time. These people are your friends whether you actually talk to them or not.

Stuck for something to say? Point out something you liked about the post! It can be something small! Acknowledging things that make you happy out loud is good for your mental health and also your soul.

Reblogging also invites other people who are doing all of these things to find and follow you!

There's so much to do on here beyond checking your dash and occasionally looking at the For You tab. You can discover all kinds of people and things by making a bit of an effort and having a poke around in your Activity feed and on the blogs of people who interact with the posts you're seeing and passing along! I promise you don't need an algorithm to do this for you; the action of exploring the landscape around you on this website is fun in its own right!

Get out there and see who your neighbours are. 💜

#Tanner talks #long post

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trans-androgyne · 2 months ago

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For the person in my inbox worried about becoming transmisogynistic in the middle of this discourse, as they notice themselves becoming defensive when hearing trans women discuss transmisogyny nowadays: first, I'm sorry your ask disappeared when I was working on responding to it, this is the best I can do from here </3

But more importantly: I get it, I really do. I'll tell you about how I handle it. I used to check the transmisogyny tag daily with the intent of better understanding and supporting trans women and fems, but had to stop for my own wellbeing. Just scrolling for a minute would force me to see so many people who absolutely despise trans men and mascs, considering us the oppressors to punch up at. They'd misrepresent our theory and experiences, claim we had things easy, generalize and stereotype about us, and so many other hurtful things. Almost every single time I would go to reblog any post about transmisogyny from there (and I do mean on literally all but two occasions), I would check the person's blog and find out they would shittalk "transandrobros" and "tme trans people" and attribute the systemic transmisogyny they were discussing to us as though we had just as much power as cis folks. I was given a lot of reasons to feel put on the defense, and I noticed myself start to prepare myself for an internal argument every time I opened the tags. That's when I realized I needed to step away from those discussions for now, at least on tumblr. It is simply not a good environment to learn about transmisogyny in. Instead, for that I am turning to 1) academic resources (e.g. A Short History of Trans Misogyny) and 2) trans women in my life I trust. I suggest you do something similar. It's important to learn about transfem issues, but it is very much not your responsibility to listen to every hateful tumblr user. If you can find trans women who discuss transmisogyny on here while also believing us about transandrophobia, I will be overjoyed for you.

This is something important to think about. People of all genders are in fact being radicalized in this discourse. Someone I hated just became a full TERF! And as I've mentioned, there are far too many radfem leaning trans women and transfems who become not only defensive but actively hateful and mask off bigoted when hearing us talk about our oppression. It's too common in the trans community right now. It doesn't make you a bad person to notice defensiveness. It just means something needs to change. Be sure not to end up associating trans women in general with discourse; engage with trans women and fems outside that, whether it be friends and acquaintances, their art/music/etc, funny content, cute stories, anything. Listen about transmisogyny when it is the right time and place. See trans women and fems as your beloved sisters and siblings first and foremost, and work on what you need from there.

#long post #transandrophobia #trans/misogyny #intracommunity issues tag #mine

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months ago

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Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS poll blog!

The Scrungly Little Guys (gender neutral) Contest will start THIS THURSDAY, September 26th. All contestants have now been processed and are ready to scrungle it up for your enjoyment. Reminder that this contest enshrines the weird, the off-putting, the comic, the character actor, and the strange cinema legend. If you need a reminder of what scrungle means, this picture is the golden standard.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. I am working on a more complete tagging system so people just here for the polls can navigate the blog more easily, but that's still in the works.

FAQs:

“Define scrungly?” For the purposes of this tournament, a contestant must noticeably present in some way as at least one of these: odd, bizarre, off-putting, disheveled, creeping, feral, small, filthy, silly, funny, kooky, comical, exhausted, or just plain strange. This contest presents a wide array of scrungly appeal, so not every contestant will hit every single one of these (but should, ideally, be a few of them). Scrungles were chosen based on how convincing their submitted propaganda was. This contest is all about oddball character actors, creeping henchmen, comic relief sidekicks—the side characters who never get the credit they deserve in proper rundowns of famous old movie actors.

"How do I decide who to vote for?" Vote on whoever seems scrungliest to you. Do not vote for someone based on hotness alone. The video propaganda, included under the cut, is highly encouraged for showcasing scrungles.

"Is this just like the hotness tournaments?" No. This contest is sillier.

"Hey! Some of these guys sucked and they shouldn't be here!" Yes, some of these guys sucked. I agree with you. For reasons I've gone into before, I don't exclude anyone from the contest for moral reasons, even if I personally think they were garbage. I do this because I cannot responsibly research and vet every competitor's background and legacy, and I'm not comfortable being the moral barometer for everyone, even in cases where I think it's really obvious. You are welcome to vote against people for moral reasons, but as mod I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about anyone.

If I see repetitive, trolling, or bigoted remarks in the comments, I will block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a competitor’s problematic aspects in the replies, that’s fine, but if I see bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked. I will also block if you start harassing other people voting on the polls. If you really hate that someone is winning, please post positive propaganda for their opponent instead.

I welcome additional propaganda for the scrungly little guys in reblogs or asks. I boost the best propaganda I see and try to boost equally for everyone. I don't accept propaganda that’s post-1970 or from non-film appearances. When sending your propaganda, please don't send me too many pics or videos at once (I max out at about four per ask.)

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t alter submissions beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. I do choose the poll pics, purposely trying to pick the silliest ones possible for this contest; if you think I could do even sillier, send me one I can use instead. If you think a contestant needs more propaganda, send me an ask with some and let me know if you'd like it added to the poll post if they make it to the next round.

“Who won the major hottie tournaments?” Eartha Kitt and Toshiro Mifune are the reigning hotness champions. They are both living it up by the pool in the sunshine, as far from the shadow realm as possible.

“The....the shadow realm?” All hotties who fail to continue in a hotness tournament are sent to the shadow realm, far below the crust of the earth where the sun never shines, a dark and dismal and gloomy place. (Boris Karloff keeps making everyone try his sherry-based guacamole.)

“Was [this famous person] submitted to any of the tournaments?” Try a tag search for them (ie, [#famous person name] in my search bar). If you still haven’t found your hottie, they either did not fit the criteria of working in movies from 1910-1970, weren't convincingly scrungly in their submission, or were not submitted at all.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the polls.

Tournament schedule post-hiatus:

Ongoing: Dracula Daily casting polls

Starting September 26th: Scrungly Little Guys contest (gender neutral)

After that: Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

TBD: Hottest On-Screen Couples (Astaire and Rogers, Bogie and Bacall, etc)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pit sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

#housekeeping #scrungly 1 #scrungly little guys #hotvintagepoll

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago

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My person (Charles Leclerc)

Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.

Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.

"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".

You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.

Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.

"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.

"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.

Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.

If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.

Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.

Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.

He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.

"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.

"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.

"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.

"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.

When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.

By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.

He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.

"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.

"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.

"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".

"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.

"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.

"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.

"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".

Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.

"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".

Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.

"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".

His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.

"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?

Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".

The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.

Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.

"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.

The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.

"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.

In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.

"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.

Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.

"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.

"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.

"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.

"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".

Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.

"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.

Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".

"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.

"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.

"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".

"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".

Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".

"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.

"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.

"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.

"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.

"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.

"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.

Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.

The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.

"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.

"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.

"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.

"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.

"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.

"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.

Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.

When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.

"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.

Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.

You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.

"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.

"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.

"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.

"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.

You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.

Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.

"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.

"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.

"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.

To him, it meant the world.

You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.

After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.

"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.

Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.

Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.

The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.

This was a sight you could get used to.

"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.

"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.

"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".

"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.

"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.

"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.

Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.

"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.

"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.

"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.

"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.

"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".

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