#also fuck shading... like proper shading

[benanazauce]

cw eyestrain/bright colours and a lil blood!!

PROPER ULTRAKILL ART!!!!!!! V1 and gabriel yippeeee!!!

I found a new brush and OH BOY have I been messin around with it HYUHGUAHGSHUGSUHV

poses heavily inspired by the painting Dancing With Death by Hugo Simberg (1899)!!!!!! super super cool painting I love it so much

honestly had 0 idea what I was doing here but I’m very proud of how this turned out!! and I found a new brush to use heehee :3

[eaterofdust]

So I was doing my rounds of rewatching speed paints of my own art to entertain myself...

I think it might be slightly obvious that I do all shading by hand instead of using a blur tool.

"I don't look the looks of him. He's young to be a prisoner, and those muscles?"

"...Lets not tell him about his father, aye?"

[eightmakesonebraincell]

can i get a name for your drink? yeah, peter parker

genre: delinquent!ateez x bubble tea worker!reader, meet-cute, high school au, fluff, crack

length: 6.6k

c/w: cliche depictions of high school delinquents, mentions of smoking, drugs and clubs, boys trying to act tough, everybody has bad humour, swearing is their mother tongue

synopsis: a bubble tea shop is one of the last places you would expect for a high school delinquent to walk into during the dead of night. yet here you are, forming an unlikely friendship with not one but eight of them. they may be kind of stupid, but they also kind of grow on you.

a/n: a fic with no angst? a fic without a 40k wc?? new writer who dis. just a short and sweet fic @sorryimananti-romantic helped prod me to write

you know that you are probably shaving a couple months off your lifespan each time you work a night shift at the bubble tea shop and subsequently fuck up your entire sleep routine for the next couple of days, but it gives you a bit of extra money, there are hardly any customers, and it is quiet enough that you can squeeze in some studying at the same time.

the shop probably averages about two couples and a few odd individuals here and there per night. why a small business would even decide to stay open during ghost hours in the first place, likely making negative profit, you have no idea. but you digress–you are just here to bum around for money.

so when your average customer number suddenly spikes not just by one, two or three people, but by an entire group of eight, it is safe to say you are more than confused. they are obviously your age because you can recognise the school crest embroidered onto the front pocket of their uniform shirts; it is one of the nearby high schools in the area. except, that is where the similarity ends.

only half of them are wearing their uniform, and even then they layer it unbuttoned over bold statement t-shirts like it is a mere accessory. the others wear black tracksuits and there is not a single pair of proper school shoes to be seen. your eyes cannot help but scan their pierced ears and obviously-styled hairstyles–you are pretty sure the shortest boy has dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown too.

it is hard to take your attention off of him as he takes one last drag of the cigarette in his hand, lazily blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before he flicks the butt onto the floor outside and steps in through the door along with the others. you idly wonder how he got his hands on a fake id to purchase cigarettes in the first place, but at least he is polite about not smoking inside your store.

the group saunters up and you startle slightly as the boy at the front slaps his hand against the counter with the matching confidence to his glorified 6 foot height to demand, “give me a double shot of espresso.” he pulls away his hand to reveal a mismatched assortment of sad coins and crumpled notes.

“we, uh–” you glance not so subtly at the wall-sized menu behind you and the LED lighting decor sprawled across the other three walls with the phrases, ‘you’re a cu-tea’, ‘you’re pearl-fect’, and ‘you’re my bo-bae’, and wonder what gave these boys the impression they could order coffee. “we don’t sell coffee,” you state.

he does not seem fazed by your words at all. “can’t you just, like, charge me for your most expensive drink and make me a coffee?” he asks his absurd question with practiced ease, which makes you think that this is not his first rodeo.

unfortunately for him though, you deadpan, “i physically can’t. we don’t have a coffee machine.”

the boy’s expression finally cracks a little and you can literally see the cogs slowing down to a stop inside his brain. “aw, fuck,” he swears, “this worked last time.”

one his friends shrugs callously and snickers, “what did i say, mingi. told you they wouldn’t have one.”

“shut up, jongho,” he gripes in response.

you gesture vaguely at the laminated menu on the counter beside the cash register. “would you like something else to drink?” you offer.

the tall boy–mingi–takes all but one look at the barrage of words before his eyes flicker back up towards you. “recommend something.”

“depends on what you’re feeling,” you hum your scripted question, pointing to the different sections of the menu. “do you want something fruity or milky?”

he looks constipated as he weighs the two options. “fruity?” he eventually settles, still sounding unsure. “what’s good?”

at the question, all of their eyes turn to look at you intently and you feel yourself wilting internally at the thought of explaining the drinks to a group of boys that look like outright delinquents, because if there is one downside to working here apart from the crippling health impacts, it is the loss of your dignity each time you have to say the stupid names of the drinks.

“well,” you clear your throat and steel yourself, “we’ve got the bubbly butterfly blues, a purple grape and blueberry fruit ade, or the mysterious mermaid magic, a mango and passionfruit green tea with rainbow pearls.” you forge on with your explanations despite the furrowed brows and open mouths of judgement on their faces, deciding to give them a recommendation for a milky drink too just in case. “the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles is also pretty popular. it’s a strawberry milk tea with whipped cream, sprinkles and marshm–”

“i’ll take that one,” mingi interrupts, unable to stand the onslaught of words that make the world around him explode into pink glitter. he drops an additional crinkled note onto the counter for good measure and then strides away to take a seat at the table in the furthest corner of the store to wait for his cutesy drink.

half a snort escapes the back of your throat at the sight. mingi may as well hold a megaphone to his mouth and shout “i am a manly man!” to make himself feel better. what an idiot.

you shift your attention to the rest of the group. “anything i can get for you guys?” you ask.

“fuck it, why not,” the one who had been smoking shrugs immediately. “get me the same thing he’s getting.”

most of the others pass and step away to join mingi at the table as you sort out the payment for delinquent number two’s cutesy drink. when you close the cash register–you are tempted to ask them why they have so many loose coins–the last two of the boys sidle up to the other side of the counter, peering down carefully at the menu.

you frown.

these two are actually wearing their uniform properly, only the first buttons of their shirt undone, no brightly-coloured tee peeking out from underneath, ties still around their neck and shirts tucked into their pants. they are even wearing their name tags; kang yeosang and park seonghwa. also, apart from the fact that the two appear prim and proper enough to be part of the student council, they are also very pretty.

said two look up at you, catch the frown across your face, fumble a little, then give you a small smile as a peace offering. “hi,” seonghwa greets softly, “can we get two regular pearl milk teas, please? thank you.”

you physically recoil.

“blink twice if you’re being threatened,” you blurt out, the words tumbling unwisely out of your mouth before you can stop them and definitely loud enough that all eight of the boys can hear you.

blink twice seonghwa and yeosang do, but not as a confirmation that the stark difference in their appearance and demeanour to the others is a sign they are being bullied into hanging out. they blink to ask–very respectfully–what the fuck you are on about.

they blink at you. you blink at them. the other boys blink at the three of you.

“sure thing!” you vocally sweep your own words under the rug. “two regular pearl milk teas coming right up!”

you swipe yeosang’s payment out of his hands–notes and coins carefully counted out to the exact amount–and punch the number into the cashier before swiftly turning your back to them to make their drinks. if you ignore something hard enough then it never happened. and it works, because they retreat to join the rest of their friends at the furthest table without further comment.

it does not take long to make all four of their drinks, but you do take a few extra minutes to carefully swirl the whipped cream on top of the strawberry milk tea orders and artistically shower them with sprinkles and marshmallows. you want to make them as cute as you fucking possibly can just for mingi.

“two rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles and two regular pearl milk teas,” you call out.

they all stand up, likely ready to leave once they grab their drinks. mingi leads the group with his long strides and he picks up his drink with one hand. he holds it up to eye level to study it like an unknown specimen and the moment he picks it up, one of his friends–you think you overheard the others call him wooyoung–cannot help but blurt out with distaste, “that shit looks sweet as fuck.”

mingi holds his drink closer to his body with a light glare because hey, it does look sweet as fuck but it also actually looks really good. and kind of cute, he will admit. he takes a tentative sip through the straw then a small lick of the whipped cream on top, the scattered toppings simultaneously crunching and melting in his mouth to spread sweet diabetes across his tongue.

it tastes like drugs in sugar form.

and it must show on his face because the tallest of his friends leans over to do the same, taking a sip from the same straw and a lick of the whipped cream from the other side, only far more generous and daring than the drink’s owner.

“bro,” comes the tall boy’s immediate reaction, “i’d get one of these every day.”

wooyoung suddenly looks less dubious and asks, curiosity now piqued, “give me a sip of that rainbow shit.”

“no,” mingi instantly responds, still keeping his drink close to his body and literally turning away to keep it protected and out of wooyoung’s reach. “you insulted my drink. get your own.”

the latter whines and you physically jerk backwards for the second time that night at their complete disregard for following stereotypical delinquent traits. you are starting to think that they are not delinquents so much as delinquent-wannabes and they seem increasingly harmless the more they simply exist.

“hongjoong,” wooyoung suddenly sings out, appearing to change targets to his other friend who had ordered the same drink. he is determined to try a sip tonight without having to spend his own money, but alas–

hongjoong flips him off and cradles his drink out of sight too. “you insulted my drink by extension.”

–determination can only get him so far.

this time, you cannot help the proper snort of amusement that leaves your mouth. you dare to hold your gaze with a lightly teasing lilt of your lips when wooyoung whips his head around with narrowed eyes. the boy cogs turn in his head as he deduces how far he can push the boundaries with you and he must come to some sort of conclusion that you are a newfound stranger-friend because he jokes with a straight face, “i’ll rob you.”

“sure,” you answer easily, tapping in a fake order onto the register’s screen to eject the cash drawer with a comedic ding! emphasising your words.

a few of them guffaw and wooyoung’s expression lights up to actually reach over the counter to help himself to a ten dollar bill. that is, until his hand is slapped away by somebody else with quite possibly the most perfect eyebrows you have ever seen. and no. you are most definitely not jealous.

“i’ll pay for your drink,” the friend chides, digging into his back pocket to fish out his wallet.

seonghwa shakes his head and advises, “don’t enable him, san,” at the same time that wooyoung brattily decides, “nah, don’t want one.”

“god, that’s it,” jongho mutters, starting to usher the group away from the counter towards the direction of the doors. “we’re leaving. mingi’s waiting outside already.”

they let themselves be herded and a few of them even turn to wave goodbye to you at the doors, cheerfully leaving behind the words ‘we’ll be back!’ in their wake as they exit the shop. your hand remains suspended in the air mid-wave even after they have disappeared and you blink blankly at the bizarreness of your entire encounter with the group of boys.

you do not know if they truly mean it when they say they will be back, but you do know one thing; you kind of hope that they do.

“can i get that thing i got last week.”

the tone of mingi’s voice ends his sentence more like it is a demand than it is a question, but the nuance of his words is still a request and already an improvement in comparison to your first encounter with him. if you are completely honest, you are also somewhat happy to see him and the others come back, so you will take the wins where you can. baby steps.

“which one?” you clarify. “i don’t remember.”

you do remember because their group of eight is pretty hard to forget, and they are some of the only customers you ever get. plus, you have made it somewhat of a personal challenge to hear mingi say something as stupid as ‘rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles’, which means that you are going to pretend for as long as you need to.

he scratches the side of his neck. “y’know, that drink you said is good.”

“we have a couple of those. was it the, uh, mysterious mermaid magic?” your head tilts with exaggerated thoughtfulness and from behind mingi, hongjoong and wooyoung cackle while the others look on with smirks, having caught on to exactly what you are doing.

“no, the rainbow unic…” he mumbles, voice growing increasingly softer with each syllable until his mouth is simply opening and closing.

you look at him with faux apologeticness and furrow your brows, “sorry? i didn’t quite catch that.”

“say it louder, dude,” his tall friend nudges him playfully. you are going to need to find out his name somehow because his is the only one you have yet to figure out, and you have a feeling you and him would get along real good.

“the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles,” mingi finally gets out. if he were a cartoon character, you would see the rising colour of bright red creep up from under his uniform to the tip of his ears and then to the very roots of his hair.

god forbid a manly man purchase a cutesy pick-me-up drink on a friday night.

you smile brightly and use your cheeriest customer service voice to announce, “one rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles for princess mingi coming right up.”

the boy in front of you is flattered to learn that you know and remember his name but is also twice as horrified by the nickname you have crowned him with. his brain short circuits and his eyes widen at you in panicked masculinity and he shoves his payment across the counter before retreating to the same table in the corner of the store where seonghwa is already seated. if you look closely enough, there is a little wisp of smoke coming out from the top of mingi’s head too as he malfunctions. heh.

the boy whose name you still do not know comes up to the counter next. he jerks his head backwards in the direction of mingi and orders, “could i get the same? that rainbow fairy sparkling unicorn or whatever.” the name is wrong but he gets an a+ for trying so you do not correct him, simply nodding and putting his order into the cash register instead.

then you ask for your own personal gain, “can i get a name for your drink?”

he does not appear to question your intentions nor realise he is the only one you have asked because he is too occupied grinning widely at you, unable to curb his cheeky excitement at the thought of what he is about to say. “yeah, peter parker,” comes his proud answer, quite literally naming his drink.

and that is how you find out that he has the best (read: worst) humour out of all of the boys.

it is frankly right up your alley but you refuse to let him one-up you. instead, you use it to your advantage. you nod, “p.p. for short,” dragging the abbreviated initials out for longer so that it sounds intentionally crude.

“peepee,” wooyoung repeats with unrestrained laughter, high-pitched shrieking that sets off the others as well.

and that is also how you find out that wooyoung has the easiest funny bone to tickle out of all the boys.

p.p.’s eyes glint with delight at the fact that you can both take and dish out your own freak. he leans against the countertop on his elbow, which is a sight to behold with how far he has to stoop down because of his height, and exposes you with no qualms, “it’s yunho, by the way, since you wanted to know my name so badly.” he adds a flirty wink for good measure as his friends ooh like the true teenage boys that they are.

you mirror his mannerisms and bat your eyelashes at him to say, “okay, whatever you say, peepee.”

hongjoong intervenes and shoves yunho aside before the latter can fall in love with you and your wack-ass humour or something. he shoos him away, “go sit at the table,” as if he is sending the taller into the naughty corner.

yunho concedes with his hands raised in mock surrender, walking backwards as he reassures his friend, “don’t worry. you won’t hear a peep-ee out of me.”

your facade cracks and you let out a laugh, which only grows louder when jongho takes the liberty to grab a wrapped straw from the container on your countertop to peg it at yunho’s face. it bounces perfectly off the middle of his forehead and lands on the floor, where seonghwa–bless him–bends down to pick it up. you think he might just be your favourite.

“didn’t know you were into that kind of humour,” hongjoong notes with a tone of amusement.

“oh, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you respond, a hint of flirtatiousness in your words.

fuck being professional. these boys would probably be the last people on earth to ever report you for something like a coquettish comment, and god forbid you want to flirt with a couple of really hot guys. the image of hongjoong taking a lazy drag from his cigarette burns at the forefront of your mind as he stares intently into your eyes, and his seeming nonchalance to his own charm only makes him that much more attractive.

he raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

“only if you’re up for it,” you respond coyly.

san coughs and interrupts, “not to be a cockblock, but can you flirt after we order our drinks.”

the boy in front of you rolls his eyes, pairing it with a loving middle finger at his friend. however, he moves over anyway, half mumbling that he is not going to get a drink. his spot at the counter is immediately snagged by san who mimics yunho’s earlier pose leaning against the surface. “so,” he gives you an overly-smouldering gaze, “tell me something about yourself that i don’t know.”

a bubble of mirth rises from out of your chest and san drops the act utterly pleased with himself. you humour him, though only partially, by revealing, “the desserts here are actually really good. i love the cookies.”

“which one’s your favourite?”

you point to one of the cookies in the second row of the display counter. “the biscoff and peanut butter fudge.”

one of his beautiful brows raises upwards as if to ask why the cookie name is so normal. you give him a miniscule shrug. beats me. he shakes his head with a slight chuckle then requests, “i’ll have one of each cookie and one of each donut that you’ve got.” your eyes bug out of your head because that is a fuckton of cookies and donuts, but san reassures you they all have caves for stomachs.

you get started on their drinks then slide the glass doors open to pull their desserts out, only to realise that yeosang has lingered close by to watch you. he is not wearing his uniform today, instead in a tracksuit like the others but in white. he looks good in that colour and you tell him such, “your tracksuit looks good.”

“thanks,” he replies easily, “wooyoung shoplifted it for me.”

your jaw drops at his sudden confession, too taken aback to appropriately school your expression in time even if you should not really be too surprised by their shenanigans. at your obvious stupor, yeosang’s stoic face breaks immediately and he reveals, “just kidding, hehe.” despite his joke, he blushes to the very tip of his ears like rudolph but elf style and rushes away.

you are left dumbfounded in a good way. one day, you are going to teach yeosang a thing or two about confidence because his uncanny ability to keep a straight face whilst saying the most out-of-left-field thing when it is least expected then leaving the other person wondering whether he is being genuine or only joking is top-tier humour–he just needs to learn how to own it.

you are also left wondering whether there is a single sane soul in this friendship group. you still hold some hope for seonghwa and maybe san, but who knows.

when their drinks and spread of desserts are ready, you expect them all to leave like they did last week. except this time they drag two circular tables closer together in the far corner of the store that they seem hellbent on claiming as their spot, where they then lay out all of the desserts across the joint surface. you watch from behind the counter. there is both a sense of systematic order and chaotic mess to the way they take a bite out of a cookie or donut, nod enthusiastically at how good it tastes whilst shoving it into the face of somebody else, who will in turn take a bite and join in on the enthusiastic nodding and moan an affirmative that it is good.

“wait, this donut is fucking fire,” you hear, and, “this cookie is The Shit, bro.”

they are sort of really fucking cute; boys you would expect to see loitering in alleyways with cigs in their mouths and sneaking into clubs with fakes to pop pills, instead sitting hunched over on cute plastic stools around rickety circular tables sharing sweet desserts like they are at a tea party.

wooyoung catches your gaze over the top of jongho’s head and he gets up instantly to drag you out from behind your counter. all of your warbled protests go unheard as he pulls you by one of your loose apron ties–his strangely endearing way of being respectful not to actually touch you–towards their tables whilst refuting, “there’s nobody else in here but us.”

that is how you find yourself squashed between seonghwa and jongho, your shoulders and thighs touching from close proximity.

“try this blueberry lemon cookie,” seonghwa offers from beside you the moment you sit down, extending the treat for you to take a bite from.

mingi so helpfully reminds, “she literally works here.”

seonghwa shushes him, “yeah, but she probably hasn’t tried everything on the menu.”

he is not wrong. you may have the appetite, but you do not have the physical stomach to try an entire serving of each dessert available in the shop, even if you were to try one per shift. now that the opportunity has handed itself to you on a silver platter, you are not going to refuse. plus, you do not think that you could ever bring yourself to say no when seonghwa is holding the cookie out with both hands so eagerly.

he is definitely your favourite.

you take a tentative bite out of the cookie and eight pairs of shiny eyes do not leave yours until you give them an affirmative and enthusiastic nod at its taste. all flurry of activity starts up again as they continue to trade desserts with those sitting beside them and across the circle. it feels like you are suddenly back in primary school, sharing your snacks out of your lunch box and trading sandwiches with your friends. they include you easily in both taste-testing and conversation, filling your usually quiet shift with antics and laughter.

it has always been a perk that you do not get many customers, but now more so than ever, you hope that nobody comes in for the remainder of your shift–or at the very least, not until the boys leave. in just two meetings, they have all grown on you in their own ways and you kind of want this to become a regular thing. you could definitely get used to this.

despite their appearances and rough-around-the-edges personalities, they are really just a bunch of boys living their life to the fullest in the diabetic form of bubble tea, loaded cookies and glazed donut runs in the middle of a random night.

and honestly? if you had a group of friends like them, you would too.

yunho’s eyes narrow fiercely at the couple who are walking along the footpath outside the perimeter of your shop, daring them to step in through the doors. his glare is not needed though–the very sight of what is going down inside is more than enough for their eyes to widen and for the man to hastily pull his girlfriend away.

“oh look, there goes another two potential customers,” hongjoong notes with sarcastic dismay. “i wonder why people are always in such a hurry to leave.”

yunho blinks his murderous intent away and faces you with round, innocent eyes as you roll your own and cross your arms. your insides wilt at the loss of potential revenue but only by a tad, because whatever business they boys scare off, they make up for several times over. you state as a matter-of-factly, “maybe it has something to do with jongho.”

said boy currently stands about three feet away from you, his arms raised and fists clenched threateningly as the rest of the boys surround the both of you in a circle of sorts as if they are about to witness a bloody fistfight. you suppose it does not look too far from the truth–you are about to get punched in the face.

jongho shrugs dismissively, “it’s not my fault other people aren’t interested in learning how to get knocked out by a sucker punch safely.”

“i don’t think any of those words should go together in a single sentence,” you tell him honestly, unimpressed.

“they normally don’t,” jongho’s mouth ticks up, “which is exactly why you’re learning.”

you cannot win against him or any of them. last week it had been learning how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place, the week before it had been how to dislocate a shoulder, and then the week before that it had been how to reverse-jump a person if they were chasing you into an alleyway.

it has become an ingrained part of your weekly routine for the boys to rock up during your friday night shift, order half the menu, hang around for hours where you usually join them, then leave until the next week rolls around again. but these random tutorials have only just recently become a new routine within your pre-existing routine.

it all started when wooyoung snuck behind your counter one night while your back was turned to make their drinks and decided it would be hilarious to scream in your face as you turned around. you had jerked backwards so hard that you knocked over the entire stack of blender jars, which toppled over into the dirty sink one after the other like noisy dominoes. seonghwa had made wooyoung personally clean and stack them all again as punishment, but the damage had been done and hongjoong had declared that you would not survive in the real world if a little fright like that could make your butthole pucker right back up into your own intestinal system.

and so had begun your weekly crash courses on survival instincts because according to them, you had none. you had refused to submit to their antics at first, but then yeosang had pointed out, “it’s true. wooyoung was standing behind you like a creep for a full five minutes and you didn’t even notice.” san had also threatened that they would not order anything until you complied each week.

“that’s not fair,” you had complained petulantly. “i just won’t serve you guys at all then.”

san had given you a cheshire grin. “you wouldn’t. we’re like, eighty percent of the total revenue you make during your shift.”

that shuts you up real quick and san knows, so you have no choice but to give in to whatever tomfoolery they choose to teach you for that week. if it is learning to ‘get knocked out by a sucker punch safely’, then so be it.

“okay, i’m all set to be punched in the future,” you declare dryly as jongho reigns in his fist after a pretend swing at your temple, “are you guys going to order now?”

hongjoong nods like he is the little leader of this delinquent gang, but jokes on him because they follow behind you to gather in front of the counter in a single file of sorts with practiced ease, an endearingly crooked line of ducklings. you know right off the bat that it means they already know what they want to order because other times they will come together as pairs or even triplets so that they can umm and ahh over the menu together.

you do not think you can ever take them seriously as proper delinquents–if they even count as such.

as if to prove your point even further, mingi throws up double gang signs and makes a poor attempt to rap, “i want an emineminem,” and when seonghwa not-so-subtly pinches his elbow, he adds on, “please.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as your hands automatically move to input his order into the register, long past familiar with what his order truly means; mysterious mermaid magic, because the alliteration of the name ‘m and m and m’ sounds the same as the rapper’s name twice. go figure. you do not know if ‘emineminem’ is worse, or, as san calls it whilst flexing his biceps, ‘the merman’.

the boys have a shockingly terrible incapacity to remember the names on the menu correctly, but it is also partially due to the fact that they could give less than zero fucks about them. they will either say what they think the name is, or what they think the name should be.

they make the rules. you simply follow.

the first time it happened was during their third time at the store. “yo, give me a triple b,” jongho had confidently ordered.

“a fuckin’ what?” you were positive you were having a stroke.

“a triple b,” he had tried again, frowning at how you did not automatically understand him. “the big butterfly bus or somethin’.”

you could not take him seriously. “big butterfly bus? what are they gonna do after hopping on? go to fucking school?” you had jested. “also, you can’t just make up your own name and expect me to–you know what, sure.”

it sort of becomes a game. you will roll over in your grave before admitting it, but it is sort of fun to hear an absolutely rubbish string of words–or letters–come out of their mouths for you to then follow their ridiculous train of thought backwards to work out what the actual drink is. the silly boys with their silly names kind of grow on you.

and you may or may not indulge them a little too much. they are the first to try any new items on the menu, even when they are still technically not meant to be available to the general public. but when they pounce on whatever you present to them on the table like puppies and fresh kibble, it is very hard not to keep doing so. which is exactly why you bring out the batch of cupcakes you had made earlier specifically for them to taste.

they look like normal vanilla-frosted cupcakes, except when you bite into them, there is a dark chocolate cookie inside the base. it is the perfect mix of soft and chewy, and when the gooeyness is maximised by slightly warming the dessert up, it is–

“fucking fire, bro,” yunho says around a mouthful, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that seonghwa shoots him for talking with food in his mouth.

yeosang inspects the cookie at the core. “have you named it yet?”

you do not get a say in what the menu items are named and they always do in fact already have a name by the time the boys get to try them. regardless, you answer, “not yet,” because they love the power trip they get when they have creative liberty over your store’s products.

“i have an idea,” wooyoung pipes up immediately. “the frosted ultimate cookie cupcake.” then in a falsetto voice, he role-plays by himself, “hi, could i get a fucc please?”

mingi snorts himself silly and continues, “actually, could you give me two fucks?”

you oblige, “fuck you, and double fuck you,” flashing your middle finger at wooyoung first then mingi second to punctuate the fucks you are gifting them.

the boys snicker at your crudeness, absolutely delighted. not the type to let any opportunity to swear go by, the rest of them join in as san yanks you down to sit at the table with them before you can roll your eyes and walk away.

and out of all moments, it is this exact moment, when you are surrounded by the eight of them throwing out colourful words left and right with the giddy enthusiasm of toddlers, each holding a half-eaten vanilla-frosted cookie cupcake in their hands, that you realise you may actually give a few too many fucks about them…and not just in a friendly way.

well. fuck.

when you get a call on friday morning from your branch manager the following week, your immediate thought is that somebody finally chanced upon watching the store’s security footage and you have been caught making friends with delinquent customers and literally feeding them with business secrets. except when you pick up and tentatively greet him, he starts to say something that is arguably just as bad.

“i need you to swap shifts with gayoung. she can’t work this tuesday night so i need you to cover that day ‘cause there’s nobody else available,” he informs. “gayoung will cover your shift tonight instead.”

you are still trying to process his words as you repeat, “tonight?”

“yes, so you won’t need to go into work tonight.”

your heart skips a beat. for the first time in your life, you find yourself asking, “can’t i take both shifts?”

“no, you can’t. sorry,” your manager apologises but he does not sound sorry at all.

you have never voluntarily taken up extra night shifts, much less asked to take up additional shifts. yet, there is a heavy sense of disappointment that simultaneously settles itself deep inside your stomach and lodges itself in your throat, because it is friday today and friday night is for your boys. you do not even have a way of letting them know that you will not be in tonight.

you wonder if they will notice your absence and whether they will care. after all, you may just be somebody who happens to work at the bubble tea shop they frequent. but it turns out that they do and turns out you are not.

“where were you?”

those are the first words that are thrown at you the moment the boys walk through the door during your friday shift the week after you swapped nights with gayoung. they stomp up to your counter sporting furrowed brows and pressed lips, and if it were not for seonghwa’s soft smile and warm, “we missed seeing you,” you would have thought that they were angry at you.

you can only imagine how terrifying their demeanours would be if they were actually to be angry.

“my manager made me swap shifts with another coworker,” you explain and their expressions soften immediately.

jongho breaks out into a triumphant smirk as he turns to hongjoong with an upturned palm. “i told you. pay up.”

the latter sheepishly pulls out some crumpled notes as you gawk, “you bet on why i wasn’t at work?”

“don’t mind them,” wooyoung waves his hand dismissively. “hongjoong has trust issues–said that you were avoiding us.”

“i would never!” you refute at the same time that hongjoong exclaims, “i did not!”

“either way, fuck your manager. the fucking audacity to take you off our shift?” wooyoung complains.

you try to keep a straight face at the fact that wooyoung has just very casually claimed your shift–and by extension, you–as theirs. you babble the first thing that comes to mind, “the drinks are all made using the same recipe. it doesn’t matter who makes them.”

yunho’s eyes narrow with offense that you would even suggest a thing. “it’s nowhere near the same.” he is not the only one who wants to tell you that as long as it is not you it will never be the same.

their collective thoughts come out instead through mingi, “nobody understands when we order a triple b or an emineminem or a ‘horse drink’.”

“yeah, no shit sherlock,” you fire back, because apparently sarcasm is your automatic defense mechanism when you are flustered, “might help if you call them by their proper names.”

“or maybe the problem is that nobody knows us well enough like you do,” san insists with a wink and in response, yeosang reveals, “we don’t let just anybody get close to us.”

you joke before you can truly think your words through, “sounds like a you problem then.”

“you’re right,” hongjoong banters easily with smugness.

your nervous fidgeting as you tap useless buttons on the screen of your register gives you away despite your attempts to stay collected. they chuckle and it is difficult not to crumble under their unwavering gazes because it is obvious they can see right through your facade. but can anybody really blame you when you had not been expecting them to reciprocate your feelings of interest, much less admit to it so easily and straightforwardly?

in a last ditch attempt to regain some control over the conversation, you ask, “so, what do you guys want to order?”

from day one, the boys have surprised you in the most unpredictable ways–eight not-quite-delinquent delinquents with simultaneously calloused fists, pottied mouths and insatiable sweet tooth. today is no exception, and you have a feeling that you should start becoming accustomed to their antics because they are here to stay, especially after today.

“what we want to order?” they look at you with confident flirtatiousness. “your phone number and a date.”

taglist pt. one | apply for taglist

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @yuranimous @ppprimary @hwas-housewife 

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @ddeonghwva

@delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven @fureastel

@seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds

@apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97 @savluvsmingi

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter one | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

chapter one: an offer you can refuse

years of solitude has led y/n y/ln down a dark path following her career-ending injury in 2022 but one rookie seems dead set on bringing her back into the fray

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

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“have you seen this?”

it’s too early in the day to be subjected to twitter in y/n’s opinion, but her manager - the one she’s always insisted in not needing - insists upon it. sara’s hand shakes as she hands over her phone, the video already playing loudly.

the video is a poorly clipped together compilation of kimi antonelli, for no better word, gushing about her. it’s earnest and even cute, but not cute enough. the formula one paddock was a vulture pit, one y/n had only escaped three years earlier with her life - barely.

“it’s cool. that’s all it is though,” y/n moves towards the door, picking up her coat and refusing to turn back towards sara, “i’ve told you since jenson insisted i hire you, there’s no way in hell i will ever go back to that paddock. and that’s the end of it, please. i’ll do any stupid vitamin ad or female empowerment talk if it makes you happy, but i can’t go back there.”

y/n grabbed her keys and left the apartment, leaving sara in her wake. sara reached into her pocket and pulled out a tattered letter with ‘y/n’ scrawled on the front in awful handwriting. she left it on the kitchen island and left, understanding this was likely to be her last time in this apartment - there's stupid and there's what she was doing right now, there was no way she would still be employed in the morning.

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girlsonthegrid

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 103,478 others

tagged: yourusername

girlsonthegrid: today we look back at the biggest what if for women in formula one - y/n y/ln. the 26-year-old drove for mclaren from 2020 to 2022 before she sustained a career-ending injury at silverstone. y/ln was the first ever female f1 race winner with her emphatic victory at monza in 2021 and the first ever female formula 2 champion with her win in 2019. her career lasted just 30 races and she hasn't been seen in the paddock or around any drivers since the crash. there have been reports that she has been approached about a mentor role but considering how fast her management rejected and shut down sky sports about a commentary role, this is also unlikely. what would you like to see from her if she ever comes out of hiding?

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user1: i mourn for her everyday

user2: the way she paved the way for so many but can't stand to be in the paddock to see what she did for the sport

user3: i really don't blame her

user4: doriane is the mercedes reserve and abbi is alpine's! her work is there even if she isn't and i know i'll always be grateful for that

user5: she's so overrated, if she didn't crash she still would've been out of formula 1 by now

user6: me when i'm the most wrong ever

user7: i can't believe there are still men to this day that think she wasn't great? literal world champions like max, lewis, fernando, seb and jenson have all said that she could've won a championship

user8: i mean no shade to lando but i think y/n would've made it 100x harder for max this season in that mclaren

user9: the way jenson tried to say that in the nicest way possible in las vegas lol

user10: and max agreed with him LOL

user11: the way it wasn't even proper lando shade or oscar shade like twitter painted it to be but like max just praising his bestie

user12: he does not play about her as he should

user13: i mean he's the only one we know y/n still actually talks to

user14: i can't wait for the tell-all biography that exposes half the grid because like how much have you must have fucked up for her to never speak to you again

user15: when twitter likes were public she was caught liking a bunch of tweets bout mick when he got his first points so like she doesn't even have hard feelings to the guy who put her in the barrier sooo

user16: it was proven it was break failure???? mick did nothing wrong that's why she still likes things praising him

user17: that crash really robbed us of the best ever f1 relationship with y/n and lando

user18: you know that's part of the reason that she doesn't speak to lando right?

user19: because she wished it was him not her?

user20: NO! because she hated that whole 'ship'

user21: and lando leaned into it way too much

user22: it made me a bit uncomfortable and i'm not even y/n

user23: AND she said on the beyond the grid podcast that she thought those rumours were really reductive and relegated her to just a love interest of her teammate rather than a race winner

user24: kimi antonelli please bring her back to us

user25: praying she'll listen to the literal child

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texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italics)

did u give them my fucking address

my lawyer says to always deny everything?

i also actually have no idea what you are talking about…

i just got home and there’s a fucking letter from KIMI ANTONELLI on my kitchen counter

it’s creepy and a mad invasion of privacy

i did NOT give them your address?

i gave them sara’s contact details so they wouldn’t be able to directly get to you and i honestly thought she would be too scared to ask you

she showed me all the clips of him praising me.

it didn’t work.

it’s been three years y/n…

and it still hasn’t been long enough.

all i’m saying is read the letter, as creepy as it might be, he is just an 18 year old entering the lion’s den you could at least reply to him even if you don’t take up the offer

although i read they were going to pay you £10 million a year??? was that real?

unfortunately it is very real.

i didn’t think i was still worth that much

you are worth that and more, just give him a chance. we’ve both met him, he’s a sweet kid.

for now.

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it was cold in her apartment, y/n hadn’t shut the window from when she opened them that morning. in fact she hadn’t moved from the kitchen since she set eyes on the letter. it was bold she’d give him that.

the letter was crumpled as if it had gone through hell to get to her (it probably had) and the handwriting was a serious reminder of just how young kimi is. y/n had wondered if her maternal instincts would ever kick in like all the older women in her life insisted it would. sure she had felt intense feelings of love for her childhood cats and had cared her formula one cars (regina and heather, they were named after mean girls, because that is who they had to be on track) like they were children. but that true maternal feeling had never come to her, until now.

all y/n could think about was kimi. how young he was, how much he was set to lose. not everyone was her, the worst thing wasn’t going to happen to everyone - it just always seemed to happen to her.

her loud phone alarm jolted her out of her daydream, reminding her to take her painkillers. as she poured herself a glass of water, y/n slammed down the glass and ripped open the letter.

dear miss y/n y/ln my name is andrea kimi antonelli and i am going to be driving for mercedes amg f1 team in 2025. we met very briefly after i won all three races at mugello and lifted the italian f4 championship trophy. i know you were there on mclaren PR but for me it changed my life. you have always been my biggest inspiration alongside michael schumacher (i am italian, you must understand). it was always my dream to race alongside you and maybe even be teammates, i’d even betray toto and leave mercedes to make that happen (please don’t tell him i told you that). i know that can never happen now, but it could happen in another way? i know like me you grew up seeing niki lauda supporting and mentoring the mercedes drivers and i was wondering if you would be my mentor - who cares about george anyway. i know you’ve never come back to the paddock and are unlikely to do so for little old me. but if you could just think about it that would be great, if you don’t ask, you’ll never get! i hope this letter wasn’t horribly offensive, i mean it when i say you’re my favourite!!! love, kimi (p.s. i was at monza 2021, so you could even consider me a good luck charm) (p.p.s you won monza 2021 completely on merit but i was there) (p.p.p.s please don’t think i’m an idiot) (p.p.p.p.s i also loved interlagos 2020 that’s a super underrated drive)

with tears in her eyes, y/n placed the letter back on the counter, grabbed the glass of water and made her way to her bedroom. painkillers taken with a wince, she still hadn’t gotten used to the size of the pills even three years into taking them, y/n shuffled under the duvet.

the offer was there and it seemed sincere. her accountant would tell her that the money was worth the mental turmoil, even if she just did it for one season and returned to her little cave in west london.

there was no doubt she felt something for kimi - a kinship, a frienship or a maternal yearning - but was it worth ripping off all the bandages and opening herself back up to all the scrutiny again?

she would sleep on it.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 10,567,388 others

yourusername: much to think about these days. like how the fuck this app works now?

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user1: first post in three years and it’s THIS?

user2: i am not complaining

user3: i am savouring every little piece in case she goes missing for another three years

mclarenf1: the queen has returned

user4: no thanks to you

user5: how about we keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth

user6: socials admin i know it is not you specifically but i really don’t know how you can post up here like you’re completely absolved of your involvement in this. your car had break failure that broke her fucking back - it is a miracle she is even still walking! and you still don’t accept any responsibility for it

user7: i love y/n but like how is it mclaren’s fault? break failure happens all the time?

user8: well it’s in one part the fact that they were using her as a test dummy because it was a new faulty part that mclaren was experimenting with that was on her car and NOT lando’s and the fact that to this day when they feel like it they’ll heap guilt onto mick schumacher

user9: without being disrespectful there were two formula one careers that were ended that day because mclaren have kept to the narrative that it was mick that put her into the barriers eventhough siedel admitted when he left mclaren that it was a faulty break part that caused it.

user10: clock it

user11: yes clock it but maybe on a different post because it’s y/n’s return to the internet and all yall can talk about is the most traumatic event in her life?

kimiantonelli: i also love clairo

user12: what is bro doing?

user13: be quiet he’s our best hope of y/n coming back to the paddock let him cook

user14: name three songs local

kimiantonelli: bags (live), alewife and blouse

user15: this motherfucker might just do it

maxverstappen1: i miss brando :/

yourusername: you know my address

yourusername: use it since you like to give it out so much

maxverstappen1: I DID NOT GIVE THEM YOUR ADDRESS

user16: y/lnstappen friendship is BACK

user17: it was never gone?

user18: but now we get to see it :P

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when she woke the next morning, y/n knew she had to read the letter again before jumping into anything. in her sleep she was plagued with memories of the past, but not the usual ones that haunted her in the dark. there were no flames, no hospitals, no career-ending injuries. no, this time she was transported back to 2020 and her first few races of her formula one career.

march 2020.

the paddock was much bigger in formula one than it had been in formula two with hundreds more people running around, barging through crowds, hitting y/n on the way through and not even stopping to apologise. she had thought briefly that she would be making more noise as the first female racer to take part in a race since forever - y/n even thought that she’d made a bit of a splash during preseason testing, nestled between her teammate lando and alex in the red bull in fifth.

but she was invisible. even with the garish orange path to follow to the mclaren garage, y/n struggled to get through the crowds of people brandishing their paddock passes. her trainer had gone ahead to set up her driver room which left y/n to push through and arrive to briefing ten minutes late.

“i’m so sorry, i got lost and by the time i was going in the right direction the paddock had filled up?”

y/n stammered, not quite able to make eye contact with zak brown. the american wasn’t tall in comparison to the general public but he towered over y/n and the disapproving stare didn’t do much to help.

“just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

zak snipped, waving his hand in y/n’s direction, telling her to take a seat. y/n rushed to the nearest empty seat and looked for her teammate in the room. lando was sat just three seats to her right on a small table. y/n tried to make eye contact with lando but he avoided her gaze like it was burning him, so much for the ‘big brother’ act he had put on at the car launch.

the engineers stood in front of the screen and started their long-winded presentation about the prospects for the season ahead. y/n pulled her note book out and frantically started taking notes, she didn’t know if that was normal for formula one drivers, but knowing as much as possible couldn’t hurt.

y/n copied down the warnings about possible tyre wear in turn three when she heard some soft sniggers, like someone was trying to stifle their laughter. this drew y/n out of her focus on the presentation, looking around the meeting room to locate the perpetrator.

lando caught her eye immediately. he had a light blush across his face and his mouth was covered by his hand. he looked guilty, guiltier than the rest of the room who were listening intently to the engineers. y/n raised her eyebrow in question.

“i’m sorry are we distracting you two?”

zak interrupted the presentation, turning to look at y/n and lando.

“no, sorry sir,” y/n replied turning her chair back to face the screen. “lando?” zak pressed.

“i’m sorry zak but y/n was distracting me with her note-taking,” lando forced out between his boyish giggles. “i’ve never taken notes, i didn’t realise you would be sucking up to the engineers this early on?”

“i’ve always taken notes? is it a problem? i’m sorry if i was distracting you lando.”

“yeah we’ll see how much those notes help you on track, rookie.”

lando spat over the table. it was uncharacteristically mean for the lando she had seen in the mclaren social content and the lando she spoke with at the car launch. y/n felt tears prickle in her eyes but she swallowed them down, she couldn’t cry yet - or at least not in view of all the most important people on the team.

“right. we’ll get back to business then.”

the rest of the meeting went by in a blur for y/n, but despite the outburst from lando, she continued to take her notes, she would be damned if some comments from lando would fuck up her entire race weekend routine. y/n took her time when zak dismissed them from the meeting, not wanting to look unprofessional.

moving towards the door, y/n’s shoulder hit someone else’s. she looked up to make eye contact with lando yet again.

“you better not make a habit of making contact with me, rookie,” lando said, a slight smirk but a harsh look in his eyes.

“are you like okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” lando replied pushing past through the door.

“i don’t know, you’re just a little frosty this morning? did i do something?”

“why would i be thinking about you, seriously? this is my team, know your place and we’ll get on just fine”.

with that lando was gone and y/n was left puzzled. i guess PR really does work wonders, y/n thought before making her own way to her drivers room.

her trainer, luca, wasn’t there when she managed to locate the room but all of her gear was already neatly put away like they had discussed. y/n cracked open an electrolyte drink and opened her notebook to study the meeting points.

there was a loud knock at the door and before y/n could even utter a “come in”, the mystery visitor barged into the room. daniel ricciardo announced his arrival with a packet of tim tams thrown at y/n and a quick “howdy” before he started rifling through her stuff and studying her helmet.

“ah, another cool dude who has a cuddly guy on their helmet,” daniel said, picking up her helmet, pointing at the cartoon version of her childhood cat.

“oh that’s schumi, when we travelled for karting we always brought him up until he died of old age, but i still want him with me whenever i race.” y/n said, nervous that the heartfelt explanation would be deemed uncool by one of the coolest racers she had ever seen.

“oh that’s surprisingly cute, i bet schumi was a big hit in the paddock back in the day.”

“he sure was, he’s how i charmed max into not hating me after i took him out once,” y/n chuckled thinking back to the race where max stormed up to her with angry tears in his eyes until y/n practically threw schumi at him. in just five seconds, max had calmed down and schumi was happily purring in the young dutchman’s lap.

“that sounds like max. but speaking of the other young whippersnappers in the paddock, how is our lando treating you? i bet zak and that can’t keep up with you two…” daniel asked, slumping to the floor, taking one of her drinks from the mini fridge.

“oh. i am getting used to him, we’ll put it that way?”

“he’s not being rude is he?”

“no! well. he insists on calling me rookie and keeps making comments about me crashing into him and made fun of me taking notes in briefing but i’m sure that such the british banter.”

“you’re british?”

“well. um. yeah, you got me there.”

daniel grabbed her hands, forcing y/n to look him in the eyes rather than her very interesting shoes.

“i know lando is like some media darling, but so are you. don’t let him push you around, he may have been in this team a while but you’re just as good as him if not better. you’re here to prove yourself, not to play second fiddle, okay?”

it was the first time someone had actually tried to talk to her properly since getting to the paddock. again, tears climbed to her eyes, but this time she let one creep out. daniel wiped it away.

“we made the mistake of isolating max when he was young and new, we won’t make the same mistake - we can’t have two of you running rampant around here,” y/n let out a wet laugh which daniel returned, “just come to renault if you need anything from me. max will be there for you, you know, and seb, kimi, fernando and all the old men will listen to you. don’t rot in your drivers room or hotel suite and think you’re not wanted here.”

y/n nodded, feeling some butterflies in her stomach. she was actually here - a formula one driver. a seven-time race winner wants her here, world champions want her here. a private-school fuckboy wasn’t going to ruin her first ever race weeekend.

“thank you daniel.”

“i have to dash, but i’m serious, we’re here for you. and i would be honoured to kick that little shit’s ass for you, okay?”

the australian left in just as loud fashion as he came, but in the remaining silence, y/n finally felt some peace. this was her chance, and she wasn’t going to mess it up.

present.

y/n couldn’t let that happen to kimi. the young italian was just so unbelievably earnest in his letter that y/n couldn’t bear the thought of his kindness being taken advantage of. george russell had never been outwardly callous but with his attack on max late last season and his complete radio silence with y/n since her crash made her suspicious.

as she prepared to ask max for kimi’s number, sara (who did actually still have a job) sent her a link.

sara: zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

sara: do you want us to put out a statement or ignore as usual?

y/n clicked on the link, even though she knew it would just annoy her to the point that her phone might become closely acquainted with the thames.

as the formula one world gears up for the 2025 season, zak brown has already stated his confidence for mclaren this season. the papaya team will be coming into the 2025 season as reigning constructors champions and lando norris and oscar piastri will be aiming to add the world drivers championship to that as well.

when zak brown sat down with us earlier this week, the mclaren ceo did not beat around the bush, stating that mclaren have the strongest pairing on the grid. with red bull promoting liam lawson in a test and, mercedes putting unproven kimi antonelli next to george russell and ferrari gambling with charles leclerc and lewis hamilton, brown might just be right.

in their journey to constructors champions, brown recognised that as a team they had straightened out all of their ‘growing pains’. this is exemplified in oscar piastri completing all laps in the 2024 season.

like they usually do, y/n y/ln’s particularly rabid twitter fans will probably detect some ‘shade’ towards the former driver. brown did touch on the prior mclaren drivers during his reign as ceo, saying that the team had some childish recklessness, but now they have a team that all know their place.

y/n y/ln hasn’t spoken about anything formula one related since her retirement, even forgoing the opportunity to congratulate the team that took the chance on her for winning the championship - something brown did not mince his words on off camera. brown lamented about y/ln’s silence, labelling her a brat and ungrateful for not still thanking him for allowing a woman to compete in formula one.

will mclaren make it back-to-back constructors championships? and will they sweep both championships this season?

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she needed that loud-mouthed american’s head on a silver platter. the letter had almost sucked her back into the world of formula one, only for the man who discarded her like a broken toy when his car had malfunctioned and smashed her and her career into a concrete wall to call her an ungrateful brat.

fuck him. fuck mclaren. and fuck that dumbass reporter for giving him the time of day.

y/n didn’t throw her phone from her balcony but pulled up her texts with max.

texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italic)

have you read this absolute hogwash

zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

i 100% get why you wanted to put him in a wall last season

you watched last season?

shut up not the time

did you text me just to call your old tyrannical boss a fraud?

i was going to ask for kimi’s number but now i’m back at square one

noooooooo

i want to be there for him, the way no one was for us.

but this is the bs they write about me when i haven’t been seen or heard from in three years, imagine the shite they come up with when i’m the paddock every weekend

WHEN?

no no no

i’ll give you kimi’s number

contact: kimi antonelli (mercedes)

you decide what you want to do

as much as i would kill to have you around the paddock again… even in the vicinity of george

i want you to do what you are comfortable with

thanks max

i’m not giving you a yes but i’m definitely thinking about it

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: omg that's part one??????? i had this idea and have been planning and adding to it for a couple days. no spoilers but there will be multiple love interests, backstabbing and all that lovely stuff - i just love the drama !!! (yes i will finish guilty as sin at some point as well). i hope you enjoy the prose as well - first time writing that way on here lol ?! let me know if you liked it, who you'd like to see her with and what you'd like to see happen!

[peachylynnie]

the cat butler

word count: 2.4k synopsis: in which sylus is eager to please you, as always. but this time, as a cat butler. contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating, but sylus is down bad), references to the cat butler trailer, sylus with cat ears and a tail, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, cussing, making out, and stalking(?). a/n: i wrote this after reading somewhere that the upcoming memory might be our first-ever kiss with sylus. so consider this a prediction of some sort (probably not gonna happen). also, sylus' cat ears suit him so well. do not plagiarize or copy my work. sylus would not endorse plagiarism. enjoy!

“my lady,” a rich yet sultry voice calls. you shift uncomfortably in your sleep, wanting to rest a bit more.  

“my lady,” the voice repeats firmly. still, you dismiss it by grumbling and refusing to open your eyes. 

“my lady.” huh, that's weird. why does that voice sound like…

“my lady.” sylus?!  you burst open your eyes upon recognizing who was calling you. though, not without a startled "oh, god" because sylus was mere inches from your face.  

immediately, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to process what was happening. where were you? how long were you out for? and most importantly, why was sylus calling you "my lady?" not that you had any problem with it, but still. your eyes widen as you find yourself on a velvet sofa in a sleek lounge of some sort. extending your arms in front of you, you stare dumbfoundedly at the tight leather gloves enveloping your hands. confusedly, you look down as you pat your body. a silky red, a-line dress hugged your figure, and you couldn’t help but admire the strings of shimmering pearls that hung around your waist and neck.  

hoping for answers on how you got here and why you were dressed so nicely, you turn to look at sylus, who was kneeling on the ground next to the sofa to meet you at your eye level. you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your mouth. are those cat ears?!

nevermind the fact that sylus was dressed in a neat, scarlet tuxedo that matched the shade of your dress. nevermind the fact that he looked good in a tie—so good to the point you wanted to tug on it. nevermind the fact that he was wearing a clean pair of white gloves that outlined his fingers so nicely. what was with the cat ears?! and a tail, too?! 

"uhm" you start. "what’s with the…?" you point at his head, hoping that he would understand. you couldn’t care less about formulating proper sentences. right now, you wanted answers. where were you? why were you dressed so nicely? why the fuck is sylus wearing cat ears and a tail? and why did the caracal set suit him so well? 

sylus' crimson eyes move up cutely as if he was trying to see the ears for himself. then, they fall back down to you, but not without a chuckle. "they're cat ears, my lady," he answers teasingly. "isn't it obvious?" with that, the ears twitch excitedly. yup, you saw that right. they actually twitched. 

"holy shit," you mutter as you reach to stroke the ears. "can i?" 

sylus smirks as he gives you a single nod, closing his eyes to convey that you are more than welcome to touch him.  

the ears felt incredibly real. the fur was super soft, and you could feel the skin vibrating beneath your fingers. your eyes widen as you pinch the ears gently. they didn't just feel real. they are real. the sheer warmth you felt from touching the exposed skin in the ears told you so. fascinated, you move your fingers to the back of one of the ears to scratch at the fur. sylus purrs and leans into your scratches. you can’t help but giggle at the sight. "who's the kitten now, sylus?" you jest, lifting your free hand to scratch his other ear, causing the man to part his mouth and rest his head against your knee. fuck, your touches felt so good.  

wanting to get actual answers from him, you stop scratching and let your hands rest on your lap. before you can even speak, sylus hisses at the loss of your touch, his brows knitting and a scowl growing on his lips. he grabs both your hands and places them back on his ears. understanding his message, you continue your ministrations, trying to remember certain spots that cats tend to like. 

"as much as these ears suit you," you coo. "this is really weird. want to tell me what's going on, sylus?" you don't remember him contacting you for a new mission where cat props and formal wear would be involved. heck, you don't remember how you even got here. what exactly was going on?  

sylus sighs and raises his head back up before answering, "you purchased me, my lady." his amused gaze meets your bewildered one. “we signed a contract where i would be your cat butler as of today. perhaps you forgot because as soon as you signed the contract, you drank excessively from the bar over there," he juts his head towards the bar behind you. "then, you passed out." 

what in the actual fuck? did he say purchase? what contract? you don’t remember signing any contracts. and since when did you ever drink? no, this can’t be right. you don't even recall coming to this fancy place. let alone dressing up so nicely.  

"you're lying," you nervously say. "there's no one working at the bar, and i don't see any glasses either." for a moment, a look of pride flashes on sylus' face. you always were so observant. one of the many things he loved about you. if only you were more observant of his affection for you instead of being so oblivious all the time. "besides, what's with our outfits? i don't remember putting this on. let alone coming here..." 

sylus laughs endearingly. his signature, billionaire laugh that constantly stirs up butterflies within you. "trust me, my lady, you drank," he insists, grasping your wrist and pressing a fond kiss. flustered by his actions, you try to pull back, but sylus' grasp remains strong. his sharp gaze locks with yours as he continues. "the dress code here is formal. thus, our attire. you walked in looking like this. a wonderful choice, i must say. you look ravishing, and i am honored to have been sold to you because..." sylus leans in next to your face, his hot breath fanning your sensitive ears. "i wouldn't have anyone else as my master."  

you stand up immediately, uncontrollably blinking and blushing from what you just heard. unfortunately, you don’t realize that you are wearing heels, causing you to stumble backward. sylus swiftly stands up, pulling you to him with an arm around your waist, effectively and attractively saving you from your fall. you place both hands on his broad shoulders, trying to balance yourself and catch your breath. noticing that the two of you were basically conjoined by the groin, you avert your eyes away from him.  

"t-thanks," you stammer as you try to get some space by pushing at his shoulders. "you can let go of me now."  

sylus tilts his head, looking down at you mischievously and trying to meet your avoidant gaze. "is that a command, my lady?"  

puzzled by his question, you finally meet his eyes. sylus sighs a hum of satisfaction, relishing in your eye contact with him. "what do you mean command?" you ask. you were too occupied by sylus’ accusations of you drinking to fully capture his previous answers.  

"it's part of the contract you paid for. i am to obey your every command as your one and only cat butler." the man answers eagerly, as if what he had just said was completely normal. almost as if he was enjoying this.  

you blink once. then twice before asking, "i paid for this?" you did not like where this was going.  

"indeed, my lady. five million dollars to be exact. i am quite the expensive cat butler," sylus grins. normally, you would've found his grin cute. some fangs would peek out, and a slight dimple would show. moreover, he was wearing cat ears. which only added to his playful demeanor. but right now, you were mortified because FIVE MILLION DOLLARS?! WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT MUCH MONEY?!

"what?!" you struggle against his embrace. "what do you mean five million dollars? not even a rare protocore is worth that much!" you panic as you think about your savings. did you seriously spend all your savings on a cat butler contract and put yourself into years’ worth of debt? oh god, if so, you were fucked. say goodbye to all your years of hard work and saving. 

sylus frowns at your last statement. "are you not satisfied, my lady?"

with your jaw dropped, you look at the man towering over you as if he had said something, for lack of a better term, dumb. which he technically did because who would be satisfied after spending five million dollars on a cat butler contract?! (me). "yes?!” you say incredulously. “who in this situation would be satisfied?! you just told me that i blew all my savings and probably even more for a stupid contract!" 

sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge with his free hand. while it was one thing to have something related to him get called stupid, it was another to see you so rattled. he had to ease your mind, knowing it would spiral if he didn't act soon. "now, now my lady. there is nothing stupid about this contract. you'd be surprised by the numerous benefits that come with it. which are but not limited to me obeying your every command." 

you don’t know which is worse. the head of onychinus telling you that you spent a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. or the head of onychinus telling you that you were actually benefiting from spending a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. as much as the idea of sylus following orders sounded like heaven, being broke in a matter of who knows how long, or in this case, little, and for a stupid reason at that, was not great. not great at all. your gaze shifts rapidly, distracted with coming up with a solution. "are there any refunds by chance?" you ask meekly. 

a dangerous look passes over sylus’ crimson eyes. with no ill intent, of course. he could never harbor any feelings of malice towards you. but the idea of you wanting a refund bothered him greatly. he was not going to let you get rid of him so easily. his arm around your waist tightens, bringing you even closer to him. lifting his free hand, sylus curls a finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his burning gaze. you shiver, forced to drown in his deep pools of rubies. feeling a rush of pleasure from finally having your attention on him, sylus moves his hand from your chin and reaches behind you to caress the blade of your shoulder. you can't help but shudder at the sudden intimacy. why did this dress have to expose your back? 

"even if my services were terrible," sylus doesn't cease his feather-like touches on your back, causing you to twitch and pant from sensitivity. "there are no refunds," he rasps as he traces a finger down your spine, prompting a whimper from you. enjoying the small yet addictive noises that leave your pretty lips, sylus smirks. yes, this was how it was supposed to be. you, in his embrace where only he could make you feel good and only he could hear your sweet, sweet sounds.  

"sylus..." you try your best not to moan. "s-stop it." you hide your face in sylus' chest, wanting to muffle your sounds and smother your embarrassment away. "i-i got it. no refunds."  

liking what he hears, sylus ceases his ministrations. he brings his hand back to your chin, gently pulling you away from his chest and slowly tilting your face so that you meet his gaze once more. "i'm glad you understand, my lady," sylus closes in on you, his lips millimeters apart from yours. "you won't be returning me anytime soon."  

sylus smashes his lips against yours, earning a moan from you. with the hand that was on your chin now cupping your face and the arm that was around your waist tightening some more, the two of you fall back onto the velvet couch. you gasp at the impact, causing sylus to slide his tongue in, capturing your own in a heated dance that he seemed intent on leading. you shakily wrap your arms around sylus' neck, trying to keep up with his relentless kisses. out of the corner of your eye, you see sylus' tail desperately swaying left and right. an idea flashes in your head. as sylus continues to swirl his tongue in your mouth, you raise your hand from his neck and gently tug at one of his cat ears. sylus jerks violently, mewling filthily into your mouth. taking that as a sign of encouragement, you continue playing with his ear, causing him to lose himself more and more in your lips, your scent, your everything. 

when the two of you grow in need of breaths, sylus pulls away, panting the same rhythm as you. you had no idea how gorgeous you looked right now. splayed out underneath him in tempting attire that was of his signature color. hair disheveled, cheeks rosy, lips swollen, eyes teary—god, you were going to be the death of him. tenderly moving a stray hair out of your face, the silver-haired man speaks.  

"so, what is your first command, my lady?"

extra:

you inhale sharply as you jolt out of bed. what the fuck was that?  you breathe rapidly as you take in your surroundings. sighing a breath of relief, you find yourself back in your room and your comfy pajamas. tiredly rubbing a hand over your face, you start to agonize over the fact that you dreamt about making out with sylus. not only that, you dreamt about making out with him in cat ears. why? you're not sure what this says about you as a person, let alone your growing attraction to him. did you have a thing for pet pla—you don't let yourself finish that last thought. ruffling your hair in frustration, you fall back onto your pillow, determined to recover from that dream. you decide that you are going to avoid sylus for a few days. 

shifting into a comfortable position, you shut your eyes and wait for sleep to find you, causing you to miss the mechanical crow with glowing red eyes flying away from your window and into the night. sylus, viewing the surveillance screen back at his grand residence, tilts his head in curiosity, a subtle smirk appearing on his lips.

 "what did you dream about, kitten?"

[britcision]

By the way friends, since I am being reminded that summer is here and therefore so is the heat, here are some reminders for you lot too!

1) active cooling, like an AC, does require you to remove heat and vent it somewhere else.

Nothing that does not vent hot air outside is going to provide active cooling, like magically making your whole room immediately colder

Never believe an ad that tells you you can instantly cool your space without a visible heat vent to outside they are lying

2) passive cooling absolutely does not. It’s slower, has a smaller radius, and is in general less effective, but also requires less energy

Things like filling all your sinks/bath tubs with cold water (or ice water for preference) will provide passive cooling

(You may have heard the term “heat sink” if you’re a computer nerd. Basically, same thing - you put the heat in your cold thing, your cold thing heats up, everything else cools down)

Depending on your humidity, you can do a lot of passive cooling with water - there’s a reason it’s our natural default, but it does require humidity less than 80-90%

(Because you need the water to be able to evaporate and leave)

Ice is, of course, king; if you have a freezer, make as much as you can ahead of the heat wave and keep it in water-tight containers for refreezing

If you don’t have a freezer, hotels have ice machines usually right by the elevators. Clearly you have a very good friend you need to drop off a charger for in the nearest inattentive hotel. Bring big pockets. For the charger.

Also, freeze dish cloths or small towels if you can, by lightly dampening and applying ice. This kicks ass for heatstroke on the back of the neck, so do at least 2 to have one refreezing while you use the other

3) if you sweatin’, you need electrolytes. This is why we’re told they’re specifically for work outs, but the truth is they are for sweat, because you lose salt and shit when you sweat

Get that hydralyte, whatever, and if you can’t immediately get your hands on proper official electrolytes, toss a salt packet like they have at fast food restaurants in your water

Normal water ain’t gonna cut it when you’re a sweaty spaghetti you must be seasoned

If you touch your tongue to the salt and it is wicked delicious, you are probably dehydrated. Add an extra salt packet or two

4) defy purity culture and spread your legs

For real

You lose a lot of heat through your grundle, and keeping your legs closed will trap that heat in your body. Open up and feel the cooling

Also applicable for arms etc be a starfish

5) do not fucking use your oven. Don’t.

Big hot appliance makes big hot home. If you can only possibly cook via oven, do it at night when it’s coldest and you can maybe get some cooler air by opening windows

Use the bbq outside, the microwave, the stove top, the air fryer, anything but your goddamn oven, but honestly? Maybe eat cold food. You will be cooled down

Charcuterie boards comeback round 2?

6) basements are OP, and anywhere you can lie on cold cement kicks ass until all your joints get fucked on by the hard cement

Pretty good for keeping water cold though. Stick it on basement floor

7) hydrate or die-drate

Seriously, we talked about electrolytes and shit, but I mean it. Drink more than you usually would, even if that means smuggling extra water bottles to your local drinking fountains and fill em

If your pee is orange you are dehydrated as hell

You can also eat wet bitches like watermelons to rehydrate yourself, slorp up the juice and if anyone complains tell them it is vital for your health

8) shade! Bring your umbrella, bring Big Hat, fuck the sun it is the enemy you wanna have something between yourself and it while you rest

Sunscreen also good but you do not want your head in the sun for long periods because sunstroke is a bitch and will sneak up on your ass

9) furries I am sorry this one is for you you NEED a fan in the fursuit and you NEED to take it off if you get tired or wanna nap

NEVER fall asleep in your fursuit in the summer, ALWAYS be prepared to get outta it in a hurry, and bring triple water or have a planned water stop

Inflatable folks too you are wearing a dinosaur or a pikachu not fur but that is still a goddamn closed environment and will also cook you

Manual fan, electrical fan, water bottles, ice packs are required for safe summer fun and probably also a shirt inside so you can go into ice cream store

10) con goers, save yourselves $15 and go to a dollar store or local equivalent and buy a cheap folding fan before the con

Bring it to dealers or panels or just out for the day you can buy fans at the con usually but they are marked up because they know you need it

[codnasties]

okok. methinks... older/dilf!ghost having you and johnny share his cock.

https://x.com/WhatILikeBISEX/status/1869694708727058439

sharing older!ghost's cock with johnny 👻🧼 (🌽 link)

older!ghost goes to the pub every here and there, not just to get himself a proper pint while he's home, but also to see if he can score himself a decent fuck for the night. because he very much needs to release all that pent up tension.

and much to his surprise he ended up scoring himself not one, but tho pretty things to share the bed with that night. both you and soap, horny mutts that met in that same pub, looking for the exact same thing. both of you deciding to give the mysterios hot older man a shot.

and god did it pay off. because ghost had both of you wrapped abound his fingers - and his cock as well. ordering you - yes, ordering, in that comanding deep voice of his - to show him how much you want it. laying back as he sits in the couch, his cock standing tall. pulsing, and his tip an angry shade of red and leaking clear pre.

and soap and you, like the eager mutts you are, so desperate for a taste of his meaty dick, don't even think twice before droping to your knees, one on each side of him, eager to please that beautiful needy cock. taking turns to play with his balls and suck him off, almost like fighting over the want - and need - to have him in your mouth. pleasuring him as your spit lewdly mixes on his cock.

when soap and you start kissing, with his bulbous head right on the middle, your tongues catching onto his tip as you make out with eachother, simon believes he's gonna blow the biggest load of his life.

[dismalflo]

Help, sweet Louise! I have a little request for ya if that’s okay: introvert Remus x introvert fem reader at Hogwarts - they decide to learn how to snog by practicing with each other just because they’re bffs and super awkward in general except when together… and obviously sparks fly and the dorks realise after a few epic snogs that there’s something real there. Thank you so much! I love Remus and I love your writing of him!

thank you for the request darling! <3 i hope i've done your idea justice, this is also much longer than originally intended.

Remus Lupin x reader who practice kissing with each other ✩ 2.3k words

cw: fluff, inexperienced remus, inexperienced reader, reader is a lil insecure, remus blushes alot.

The common room is quieter and more serene than usual. People come and go, but none linger or speak above a whisper—the subtle, soothing atmosphere of a Sunday evening. That leaves only you, Remus, and Sirius. The boy with black hair is frantically working to finish an assignment due tomorrow, one he’s obviously put off until the last possible moment. He’s most definitely copying the essay Remus lent him. “It’s just for inspiration, Moony, I swear,” he insisted, but his transparency is undeniable.

You and Remus, both finished with your own work, are lounging comfortably on the sofa by the fireplace, lost in your books. The warmth of the fire and the peacefulness of the room feel like pure bliss. You're sure if you could hear Remus' thoughts, they would echo your own contentment.

The stillness is shattered when James Potter bursts in, looking as though he's being chased, shouting and waving his arms in the air.

“Guys!” he exclaims, skidding to a halt near your group, his chest heaving as though he’s just sprinted the length of the school. “You’ll never guess what just happened!”

You don’t bother to look up, eyes still fixed on the words in your book, more than happy to listen to the usual cascade of nonsense that follows James’ entrances.

“You made a fool of yourself?” Sirius asks, his tone flat and unimpressed, a look of mild exasperation on his face. On any other day, that guess would’ve been spot-on, but the fidgeting from James is relentless, and you can practically feel his excitement seeping into the room.

“I kissed Lily,” he says, a wistful tone in his voice. It’s then that you finally glance up, curiosity piqued. The expression on his face matches his words—a mix of pride and awe—and your lips curl into a smile, genuinely happy for him.

“That’s great, Prongs,” Sirius says with a grin before leaning in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But if I’m right, I’m pretty sure you’ve done that before.”

“Pads is right, mate,” Remus adds, his voice soft but amused. You glance over at him, finding him in the same position as you—leaning forward slightly, his lips curled into a quiet smile.

James blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, as if he hadn’t quite expected this reaction from his friends. But he shrugs, quickly recovering. “Yeah, but this time was different,” he says, his voice warming with enthusiasm as he paces the room. “It was a proper kiss! A snog for the first time. That's got to be special, admit it.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow, making a face that says it all—a mix of amusement and disbelief. He shrugs again, as if James’s excitement is lost on him. James deflates slightly, but it doesn’t last long before he turns toward Remus, eager for some support.

“You get it, don’t you, Rem?” he asks, his gaze intense but hopeful.

Remus opens his mouth, shuts it again, looking uncharacteristically flustered, the telltale flush creeping up his neck. He doesn’t even have the chance to respond before Sirius cuts in.

“Oi, don’t ask him,” Sirius says, teasing but with a hint of affection. “Our lovely Moony has no idea—fuck knows how.”

He says it like it's some sort of grand mystery, and as the words hang in the air, Remus’s gaze flicks over to you. The blush on his cheeks deepens just a shade, and you can feel the weight of his gaze before he quickly looks away.

Before you can process it, James spins toward you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What about you, sunshine?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You must know.”

Heat rises to your face as you glance down at your lap, fingers nervously fiddling with the edges of your book. Usually, the lack of kisses in your life doesn’t bother you, but under the boys' scrutiny, it feels like the most embarrassing thing in the world.

“No… I—I haven’t…” you stammer, your cheeks burning. “Before.” Your eyes are firmly locked on your lap.

“Leave her alone, James,” Remus says, his voice quiet and soft. He’s aware that if he makes a big deal out of it, you’ll only feel more flustered and retreat further into yourself.

James raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay,” he huffs, clearly frustrated that none of you share his perspective. “Sorry,” he adds, offering you a grin. You nod absently, still trying to recover from the sudden rush of heat flooding your face.

“Right,” Sirius interrupts, slapping his knees as he stands. He turns to James with a grin. “I’m starving. Kitchens?” Without waiting for a reply, the two of them rush out of the room, their footsteps quickly fading away, leaving the common room in silence.

The only sound now is the soft rustling of pages as Remus returns to his book. But the words on the page blur in front of you, your mind fixated on the conversation that just unfolded. Confusion churns in your stomach, a burning insecurity settling deep in your chest as you replay the moment over and over.

You try to focus, but a question lingers, just on the tip of your tongue, like a secret you’re too afraid to speak. “Do you…” Your voice falters, barely above a whisper. The relief that washes over you when you realise your voice may have been too soft for Remus to hear is short-lived.

“Do I what, dove?” Remus hums, glancing over to you, his eyes soft with understanding. Clearly, you weren’t as quiet as you thought.

“Do you think it’s weird… to have never been kissed?” You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you realize that asking the question, though painful, is better than letting it fester inside you.

He pauses, watching you carefully, as though weighing his words. After a moment, he shrugs, though the blush creeping onto his cheeks again betrays him. “I don’t think so.” His voice is steady, and he seems to believe it. “I’ve never been either. It’ll happen when it happens, I think.”

His calm, judgment-free response gives you a sense of comfort, and you feel emboldened. The thoughts you've been bottling up surge to the surface. “What if, when it does happen, I mess it all up because I don’t know what I’m doing?” There’s a sharp, desperate edge to your voice now, a frantic urgency you can’t seem to contain.

Remus’s gaze softens even more, the gentle warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. He sets his book down and shifts closer to you on the sofa, his voice quiet but filled with reassurance.

“You won’t mess it up,” he says, his eyes never leaving yours. ���I’m sure everyone feels a bit awkward the first time. I think… I think it’s supposed to be a little weird. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about… well, figuring it out together.”

You turn your head to look at him, your heart unexpectedly skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. There’s a certain calmness about Remus that makes everything feel more safe. The gnawing insecurity in your chest eases just a fraction, but it’s still there.

“I hope so,” you say softly, eyes drifting back down to your lap as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

A silence settles between you two, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Remus shifts next to you, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks.

“Do you want to… practice?” he asks, so quietly that you almost don’t catch it, his voice barely above a whisper. But the words hit you like a spell, and for a moment, the world seems to stop spinning.

“Practice?” you echo, blinking at him in confusion. Your heart is suddenly in your throat, your palms growing clammy.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier now, though the blush on his cheeks only deepens. “Like… you know, just so we both don’t mess it up when it actually happens. Maybe we could just… figure it out. Together.” He shrugs, an awkward, nervous smile tugging at his lips.

Your mind goes blank for a moment as the weight of his suggestion settles in. It sounds absurd, and yet, the more you think about it, the more it seems… right. After all, you trust Remus more than anyone else. You’ve spent countless hours together, quietly existing in each other’s company, but this is different. The air feels thicker, charged with a kind of energy you’ve never quite experienced before.

“Just… practice,” he repeats, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “Nothing serious. Just… friendly. We’re friends, right?”

You nod slowly, your mouth dry as your gaze flicks back to him. “Yeah. Friends,” you repeat.

There’s a moment of stillness before you both shift slightly, the unspoken agreement hanging between you two. You can’t quite tell if it’s the nervous energy or something else, but when you finally look at Remus again, there’s a spark in his eyes—a flicker of something that seems to make the room suddenly feel smaller, warmer.

"Okay," you murmur, more to yourself than to him, as you sit up straighter. Your heart is racing now, but you can’t help the soft, nervous laugh that escapes your lips.

Remus turns toward you fully, a faint grin curling on his lips, though his expression is still a little sheepish. “Alright then. So… how do we start?”

“Um… I don’t know,” you admit, your own nerves suddenly rising again. “Do we… just… kiss?”

The word seems to hang in the air like a strange, foreign thing. But before you can spiral into embarrassment, Remus leans in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “We just… kiss.”

And then, with an almost surreal kind of slowness, Remus’s face inches closer to yours. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that you almost can’t hear anything else—nothing except for the sound of your own breath, and the slight shift in the air as your lips draw closer. You close your eyes just before they meet, a quiet shudder running through you.

The first touch of his lips against yours is hesitant, like a question. And then, slowly, it deepens, and you find yourself returning the kiss with more urgency than you expected, as if your body is doing things your mind hasn’t quite caught up with yet. The warmth of his lips, the softness, the slight pressure of his hand against your shoulder—it all feels so new, but so natural, like you’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than you care to admit.

When you both pull away, it’s like the world has shifted somehow. The air between you feels charged, and yet there’s still that soft, strange energy that’s been so familiar to you both. You blink at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and he does the same.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the kiss lingers between you, something you both feel but can’t quite name. Your heart races, a little faster than it did before, and you’re sure Remus feels the same way. The room feels even quieter now, the crackling fire the only sound to fill the space.

“I… I think that was better than I expected,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter whatever this moment is. You feel a little embarrassed, but mostly… amazed.

Remus laughs, a nervous chuckle, and rubs the back of his neck again. “Yeah, me too.” He glances at you, then looks away quickly, his face flushed a deep shade of red. His smile is hesitant but genuine. “You—uh, you didn’t mess it up at all. Not even close.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. “Good to know.”

You sit there, eyes meeting his once again, and for a brief, strange moment, the awkwardness feels like an old friend. Something comfortable. But something more too. The air between you both has shifted—there’s no denying it now.

Remus clears his throat softly, breaking the silence. “So… maybe… should we try again?” He says it carefully, almost as if he’s afraid of making things worse, but you can see the genuine curiosity in his eyes. A soft, playful tension fills the space between you two.

For some reason, the question feels different this time. It doesn’t feel like you’re fumbling or practicing anymore. It feels real.

“Yeah,” you answer, breathless again, but this time there’s no hesitation. There’s only the quiet certainty of something new blooming between you. When your lips meet again, it’s not hesitant this time. It’s familiar, tender, and there’s an unspoken promise there, a quiet connection that grows deeper with each gentle press of lips against lips.

The world around you disappears— no more uncertainty or awkwardness. Just the soft pressure of his lips, the warmth of his hand settling against your cheek, and the steady rhythm of your shared breath. There’s something slow and sweet about this kiss, something that feels like the beginning of something bigger.

When you finally pull away, it’s not the same as before. This time, when you open your eyes, you can’t help but smile—genuinely. You feel… different. And judging by the look on Remus’s face, he feels it too. His eyes are wide but soft, and the flush on his cheeks hasn’t faded at all, but it seems to suit him somehow.

“I think I get it now,” you murmur softly, “what James was talking about.” your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him. Remus simply nods, his lips curving into a small, private smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees, voice equally quiet. “Me too.”

[fuck-customers]

Healthcare PSA since summer and higher temps are quickly on the way:

DRINK MORE WATER AND KEEP YOUR ASS FUCKING HYDRATED

So many people this time of year will go hiking or camping or whatever else with barely any water with them at all, then get severely dehydrated and come to the ER to get help, and wonder why they got dehydrated. You need a lot more water/electrolytes than you realize, especially when being active in heat and sun. And if there’s cloud cover you usually need *more* hydration because it causes humidity and mugginess. Overcast skies does not mean cooler weather or less hydration is necessary

If you are dehydrated and come to the ER we’ll sit you in a room, run some tests on you, and get you started on drinking fluids like chilled water and Gatorade. Usually sitting in a cool place and rehydrating is all that’s necessary to stave off dehydration and get you feeling back to normal. And then you’ve paid about $2000+ for a Gatorade, which is usually not worth it. This is something you can easily do at home/in a hotel/etc., just go somewhere that is shaded/covered and has a breeze or AC, and *sip* on an electrolyte beverage and water interchangeably. SIP ON IT because if you chug you will overload your system and probably throw up.

If you are so severely dehydrated that your body is shutting down or you’re throwing up blood or whatever else, then we will give you fluids through an IV so it’s direct to your blood stream. And still have you sip water/Gatorade to rehydrate. And that’s pretty much it altogether. Sure sometimes IV fluids are necessary, but not in most cases. They also won’t ever be necessary if you take proper care of your body and hydrate as you’re supposed to.

Please y’all be careful and safe! It’s fun to be active in the summer, but it’s not worth you getting sick/hurt or having huge hospital bills just because you didn’t hydrate yourself properly. This is a huge amount of what we see in the ER this time of year, and it’s frustrating when people aren’t invested in their own survival.

[rhiannonsknife]

yellowjackets swimwear headcanons? 👙🌺

(specifically for mari, lottie, jackie, shauna, van , tai, melissa and akilah bc not enough people talk about my girl 💗)

— YELLOWJACKETS SUMMER SWIMWEAR HEADCANONS

including: jackie. shauna. lottie. tai. van. mari. melissa. akilah.

JACKIE TAYLOR

⋆˚࿔ jackie is one hundred percent showing up in a pink bikini!! she picked the set out to match her gold necklace, maybe even her nails & it either has bows, ruffles, or some kind of floral pattern.

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

⋆˚࿔ i love her but shauna is the most “basic” beach girl out of the group, and i mean that lovingly (blame it on the sophie nelisse beach pic). she probably owns one plain-colored (black? navy blue? a very dark shade of red?) bikini that she’s had for four summers in a row.

LOTTIE MATTHEWS

⋆˚࿔ maybe i’m being influenced by that one bts pic, but i’m totally seeing lottie in light green!! like mint or sage tones, maybe something ribbed with little details?? i could also see her in a matching set with a little sheer wrap or something!!

TAISSA TURNER

⋆˚࿔ tai & van are team tits out at the beach, idc. tai probably wears some plain bikini bottoms and goes topless with zero shame (idk about the us, but this is SO normal in germany, nobody gives a fuck 😭😭)

VAN PALMER

⋆˚࿔ again, much like tai, van probably can’t be bothered with a proper top half the time. but also!! post-top surgery van?? i know you guys see the vision!! they both have something they can just throw on when the group goes for ice cream, though: van an oversized shirt, tai a super loose summer dress in matching colors!!

NAT SCATORCCIO

⋆˚࿔ listen. nat in a red bra → nat in a red bikini. it really is that simple!! to be fair, this girl looks criminally good in red, so?? also, she’s got a pair of shorts she wears (chat…nat with a happy trail…? is this a good time to bring back the yj bush discourse or…?) when she’s not in the water!!

MARI IBARRA

⋆˚࿔ i’m pretty sure i’m basing this on that one scene where mari is lounging in what looks like calvin klein underwear? or was that an actual bikini? either way, i’m convinced that’s the energy she brings to the beach, too: some minimalist & sleek two-piece, probably black or dark grey, with a triangle top.

MELISSA HAT

⋆˚࿔ okay but why am i lowkey getting a rikki-from-h2o vibe?? anyway, melissa is absolutely pulling up to the beach with her hair in those two braids and shit!! also: that fuckass hat. how did i forget to include it in the pics?? she’s obviously wearing that, too.

AKILAH

⋆˚࿔ i feel like akilah brings colorful swimwear to the function!! i could see her wearing really vibrant colors and patterns to the beach, floral or coral or something like that?? maybe even matching shorts and/or tops for said ice cream runs??

masterlist.

[catdia]

Viktor with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

You guys meet thanks to Professor Heimerdinger. Both brilliant students that were later made into TAs

He is a biomedical engineer major. You share many classes together but got official acquainted as Heimer’s personal assistants

Viktor is incredibly handsome and you fell for him right away. You love his dry humor and the way his mind works. He had been Heimerdinger’s TA a few months before you, so you sat in the classes he taught as a way to get yourself familiar with an assistants work

He teaches so good, almost at the same level as any other professor. He is witty and doesn’t hold back when he criticizes the students poor test scores

“If you actually paid attention for once you would have seen that all these problems were on the homework you were assigned over the week! Oh, but half of you didn’t do it in the first place. So I’m not surprised you failed miserably—”

Professor Heimerdinger definitely tries to set you two up from the start. He sees the chemistry every time you both are around the office working in lesson plans and discussions equations. Heimer sees how Viktor softens his gaze will looking at you. And how you get lost in Viktor’s impressive mind

“There is nothing like young love, my boy! One day you are sitting together basking in the wonders of progress, then in the blink of an eye you are hearing wedding bells—”

“I think what you’re experiencing Professor is something called schizophrenia.”

Viktor was the one that asked you out first! Then it was smooth sailing from there. Your simple coffee runs to finish up grading papers turned into you holding hands and sharing overpriced pastries

Jayce also became a very big part of your relationship, he was Viktor’s roommate in freshman year and have been inseparable since. Also a biomedical engineer student

Viktor survives most days on sweets and black coffee. So when you came around you finally made this man have a proper meal after class

“I actually have been starting to feel much better these past few weeks. I’m head doesn’t get foggy anymore.”

“That’s because I’m feeding the fuck out of you. So which one do you want? Chicken and rice or beef?”

Viktor is thin and lanky so he is the one that steals clothes in the relationship. Especially likes taking your cardigans and sweaters

Started buying bigger clothes just so you wouldn’t be felt out. Makes sure to spray his cologne on it so you can smell him all day

He has a very nice sense of style, a mix between dark academia and grunge. Likes anything to do with warm colors and cozy fabrics.

He uses a leather crossbody bag instead of a regular book bag. He thinks it makes him look cooler

Has an old wooden cane he got at an estate sale. It’s a beautiful deep shade of brown that almost looks reddish. Its handle is craved with intricate flowers and vines. Viktor has a medical grade one but hates how boring it looks

“It has character! If I have to use a cane to walk at least I can look the part while doing it.”

“And by “the part” you mean looking like a grandpa?”

You and Jayce like to play around with the cane every chance you get. From limbo to sword fighting. Once Viktor has taken a seat and looks comfortable it’s game over. You’re taking the cane until further notice. You and Jayce get into petty fights over who gets to take the cane all the time

“Jayce it’s not fair! You got to take it last time and it’s my turn!” You stood on your tippy toes as Jayce lifted the cane above his head

“Nuh huh, you lost so I get first dibs on it!”

“I’m going to shove it up your ass, Talis! Give it to me—” Jayce ran away and you followed him as he weaved across the various desks and chairs

Loves watching his two idiots fight over his walking stick knowing that it ends up with him scolding you two for playing rough

Lets you decorate it how much you want. He even gave you permission to carve your name on the bottom of the handle. You like to change it up, having little bats on Halloween and wrapping it up in Christmas lights in winter

Spends all his free time in the library. You and Jayce join him often, doing homework and studying. When it’s finals you stay until midnight in a private study room. Watching Jayce and Viktor bicker over math equations as you doze off

Speaks Russian, French and Czech! You get turned on when he switches languages when pissed

Thanks to his disability he gets a really big dorm room with a private bathroom and kitchen, almost like a full blown apartment

“I can’t believe they gave you such a nice place, Viktor! Not even my mini fridge works.”

“You should have came in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank like I did on orientation week.”

“Viktor, I’m sure what you did was illegal—”

The first time you were intimate with Viktor you were nervous! Viktor because he bagged a pretty girl and didn’t know how to handle it. And you because of the lack of intimacy you had. He is such an attentive lover! And made your first time so sweet

Even if he is all fucked up after sex he will do aftercare. Will get you water and a snack butt naked. Gives you lots of affection and kind words too

You both do laundry together on the week ends. Makes for good bonding time. After washing and drying your stuff you always go to his dorm room and put on music as you fold your clothes together

“This thing doesn’t even cover one of my ass cheeks.” You put his boxers next to your butt then threw it in Viktor’s hamper.

“Good thing that it only needs to cover the good stuff in the front.” He placed another sweater in his drawer

“You’re gross, Vik!” Viktor chuckled and looked at the pile of clothes you were folding. The slight hint of pink from the mountain of dark clothes caught his attention. He reached out and pulled a pair of lacy panties

“And who are these for?” Viktor had never seen these before and had the biggest grin on his face. Imagining you in them

“For your mom.” You shot back at him

“Mmm, she has my taste. She’ll like them.” He folded the pair in his hand and placed it inside is sweater stack

“Did you really just put my panties in your cupboard in front of my face?” You looked at him in shock. And you were flatter in a weird way.

“Yes, I made it obvious for a reason!”

He takes a plethora of pills through out the day, you’ve memorized the names of them and their effects. And even have some spare ones on you in case he forgets to take them

Definitely has tampons and pads in his book bag in case of emergencies!

There are some days where he has very bad flare ups. You stay with him in bed all day and miss class together. He loves cuddling with you, holding you from behind and having his bad leg thrown over your hip. Or him laying on your chest as you play with his hair

Likes grabbing fist fulls of your tummy when your together. It makes him feel so warm and cozy

I don’t see Viktor being an avid cannabis user, but he still has his license and buys from “independent sellers” because it’s cheaper. He uses it once in a blue moon, when the pain is unbearable. Doesn’t like smoking it in front of anyone. Not even you or Jayce

Is the type of guy that just stops and stares when you walk by him. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public or alone together he WILL stop whatever his doing and look at you

You buy him matching stuff all the time, like pencils and keychains! You got a pair of matching Dr Martens with him and funky socks for every occasion

Jayce got jealous and it ended up with you three going out to a Sanrio store and buying matching keychains for your book bags. Jayce for me screams Pompompurin and Viktor is definitely a Keroppi and My Melody stan!

Viktor has been independent with his disability since he was born. It makes him feel weird when you want to help him or even do acts of service that make his day a little less painful

He has been in relationships where his partners or even “friends” make him feel less then. They see his disability before his amazing personality and smarts

It takes time for him to get used to another person loving him and not complain about his leg being a burden. He doesn’t admit how much he likes having you help him out with simple stuff, he doesn’t care about his pride when his with you. It shows him that you accept all parts of him like he does yours

You like massaging his bad knee with his medical cream. After his showers you are already set up waiting for him on the bed

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“But I want to! And I like the smell of the cream anyways. It makes my hands soft.” You slowly worked your hands into the skin of his leg. Going over his knee surgery scar with your fingers

Viktor is the type of guy that doesn’t seem to have body insecurities but more capabilities ones. Like him doubting he could make you happy. Or if he can make you feel sexually satisfied and attached to him

Which he absolutely does because that man is a freak and knows how to work with what his mama gave him!

His beauty marks and moles are your favorite part of him. Especially the ones on his face. Before you even kiss his lips properly you have to kiss is moles first! He has many more all over his body. You know where every single one is on his skin. The one on his left side pelvis, the one behind is right ear, and the pair that cross over is bad ankle

Viktor’s favorite part of your body is your ass, then your personality (hahaha). He loves all of your equally but something about watching your ass jiggle as you walk away and how it feels so nice on his pelvis when he holds you from behind just makes him gushy

“Does this dress make me look lumpy?” You looked in the mirror as you were trying on the new dresses you ordered for the Innovators Competition coming up

“What are you talking about?” Viktor turned around in his chair, pushing his eye glasses into his hair. He was busy tweaking the final cables of his invention

“Like doesn’t my ass and pudge look out of place in this dress?” You pinched your skin as you looked at your reflection. Viktor knew you well, you were setting fire to yourself. He slowly got up and walked to your form, careful to not hurt his leg

“You look gorgeous, love. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your eyes in the mirror. “The only thing out of place is that I’m not in between your legs right now.”

“Jesus, Viktor!”

Like I mentioned Viktor is a total freak! He knows how to seduce you when he wants to get down and dirty. The one that gets you the most is when he wears button down shirts and rolls in the sleeves to his forearms. Then unbuttons it until you can see the navel of his chest

“You’re getting distracted.” Viktor said

“Only because you’re making me flustered, you temptress!”

You’ve definitely have gotten freaky in Professor Heimerdinger’s lab. You sitting on the cold wooden desk top as Viktor was in between your legs. Working on pulling of your top, then undoing your bra

“V-Viktor— what if he catches us? We’ll be expelled!” He placed open mouth kisses on your exposed neck. Palms flush against the flesh of your breasts. Earning moans from your warm throat. Slowly pulling your skirt down your legs and discarding it

“He is out of office until Wednesday.” He took off your panties and placed them in his back pocket. Then slowly started taking off his belt and unzipping his pants. He pushed on your chest to make you lay flat on the desk. “Know be quite and let me make you feel good.”

He isn’t a people person, at all. So he likes to spent time alone with you the most. Watching movies, baking and building Legos together

He’s a puzzle nerd and always has one on his table that he builds here and there

You’ve tried to convince him to get a service dog, but I can totally see this man being disgusted by dogs. Doesn’t even tolerate the little ones.

“They’re so obnoxious and needy. So full of bothersome energy—”

“Whenever you talk about dogs all I hear coming from your mouth is ‘Jayce, Jayce, Jayce’!”

“Don’t you dare compare my friend to a mutt!

He is more of a cat person, or a reptile one. I believe if Viktor wasn’t an engineering major he would have chosen veterinary science

Viktor’s love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch. Has to have his hands on you at all times

“Sit on my lap.”

“Viktor, if I do I’ll put you into cardiac arrest. Or hurt your leg. I don’t know which one’s worse.” You crossed your arms, watching as he pouted at you from the sofa

“I can take it! Sit on my lap, woman!” Viktor patted his lap aggressively and made grabby hands at you

“Okay, whatever you say…” You sat down on his legs, making sure that your back was supported by the armrest of the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder

“Mmmm, this is heaven—” He massaged the meat of your thighs. Nuzzling his head in your hair

“If you see a light don’t go towards it! You still own me a movie night.”

One of your favorite weekend activities is going to the park and feeding the ducks! Also going to thrift stores and farmers markets

Viktor doesn’t let you pay for anything! He says that it’s a man’s job to pay for everything and he likes spending his TA check on you

He grew up in a place where violence was in every corner, so he is very observant and protective when you are out together. Viktor has a lot of street smarts and knows when people are watching. He also has a pocket knife on him and even owns a firearm. Don’t ask him if he has a license for it because he doesn’t

Many times you’ve had witness Jayce carry Viktor up or down flights of stairs when the elevator is busted or when there’s a building evacuation. You call it his “princess time”. You walk beside them with Viktor’s cane and book bag in hand

“This is utterly embarrassing—” Viktor had his head hanging off the side of Jayce’s arm like a corpse

“I think you look dashing, Viktor!” You said playfully, kissing his lolling head

“That makes it even worse.” He grumbled on Jayce’s shoulder

“At least you’re not tumbling down the stairs, V.” Jayce chuckled

Viktor definitely plans on marrying you after college, he knew he wanted you in his life since the first month you started dating

He was the first to say “I love you”, and cried while saying it

The type of person that says they hate kids and doesn’t like them at all. But children just flock to them for some reason. Viktor is one of those people! Every time he is out and there are kids around you are in for a treat. Babies just stare at him and give him the cutest gummy smiles. Reaching their chubby hands towards him. Little kids always come up and ask him questions about his cane. He is so dry but so kind to the little ones that it literally makes your heart melt

“Are you a pirate, mister?!”

“No sadly. I’m a college student. Boring I know.”

You love doing self care nights with him. Putting your new face masks and hair care products to the test on Viktor

Viktor growing his hair out was the biggest blessing you could ever ask for! He lets you style his hair all the time in braids, ponytails and even lets you curl it. Having a half up half down hairdo looks killer on him

You definitely joke about him being a “chubby chaser”. He didn’t know what it meant until you told him and he just smiled and said:

“Well, what are bones good for if they don’t have meat on them.”

He’s your sassy skeleton man and you love it

[4pfsukuna]

No ordinary love

Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.

Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.

Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.

“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.

“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.

“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.

“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”

And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.

You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.

“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.

“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.

“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.  

“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.

Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail. 

You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.

“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.

And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit. 

Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.

Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.

“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.

“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.

“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.

“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.

“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.

“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.

“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.

“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.

“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.

“One piece” he promises easing your mind  before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”

And you hang up the phone.

The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack  but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.

You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough  life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.

“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.

“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.

Years.

You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.

“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.

“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.

“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.

“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.

“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.

Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse.  You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.

Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems. 

Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.

Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time. 

Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.

You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.

“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.

A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.

“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.

“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.

Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.

“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.

“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.

“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.

“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.

“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.

Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.

“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.

“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.

“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.

“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.

“Yeah… i did miss you”

[burningcheese-merchant]

I think more ppl need to see this

Yeah for real lol. That's exactly what it is with him. Not to toot my own horn too much but I believe this post I made ages ago hits the nail on the head haha

"I'm bored" is... technically true. In a sense. Personally, I think it's a very simple and vague allusion to the real problem. That thin sheet of snow coating a massive, freezing cold iceberg. Just barely obscuring it from proper view.

imo it's been a bit disappointing seeing people take to extremes with Burning Spice's character. I've seen people either woobify him, downplay or excuse his actions by saying "he's not evil! He's hurting! He's depressed! He doesn't hate people, he's lashing out because he can't internalize his pain anymore!", or just demand he be put to death immediately on sight without trial. You can like a morally repulsive character and sympathize with their issues while also acknowledging that they're repulsive and need to face justice for their crimes. Burning Spice is one of my favorite characters, I love everything about him, he's sexy as fuck, I understand why he's the way he is, I'm still happy to see his ass beat because he's a piece of shit and he deserves it lol.

Not to throw shade at "simpler" villains ofc. I love me some assholes that are assholes just because they can be. Like Jack Horner in Puss in Boots 2. But Burning Spice isn't Jack Horner and he honestly shouldn't be. The deeper, sadder, more complex reasons governing his actions suit him better than just "I'm bored fuck this shit" and nothing else ykwim

and of course, he's still wrong. Burning Spice's view of the world is wrong. Does a book begin just to end? Does a song play just to finish in a few minutes' time? No. They begin so that we may read, listen, and enjoy. So that they may make us laugh, or have us shake our heads in disappointment, or tell us some hidden truth. Make our days and lives a little more interesting than they were before. Life is beautiful BECAUSE it is fleeting. Born, grow, wither, born, grow, wither. Yes, that's how it goes. But there's so much more to those things than just what we can gather from those three words. Every day is different. Though the sun rises every morning without fail, it's never quite the same color, is it? Always a bit of a different shade of yellow, orange, red, bleeding into the sky a little differently each time. There are so many things to see and do, games to play, people to meet and love and cherish. Maybe some of those things and those people won't be here someday but that doesn't mean their existence never meant anything. We are not born to die, we are born to live. We must die for those who are to live, and live for those who have died. Regardless, we must never lose sight of the intrinsic value of all that surrounds us. Burning Spice very much did. Underneath his bitterness and anger and (not unfounded, to be fair) lamentation for the unstoppable cycle of life and death is a deep-rooted selfishness and fundamental lack of understanding and appreciation for life and other people. In the face of despair, he gave in and chose evil. He was and is wrong for doing so, regardless of why he did it. He could've stepped down. He could've just admitted he didn't have what it took to be the Herald of Change. Hell, if he really hates being alive so much, he would've committed suicide a LONG time ago. But he never did any of that; instead he chose to inflict an equal or greater suffering on everything and everyone else, even the undeserving. And for that he MUST pay. And Golden Cheese, with her personality and her experiences and the wisdom she came to attain when faced with the exact same despair as Burning Spice, is exactly the right person to make him do that

[wandixx]

Seriously chaotic fashion misadventures

I realized I posted a teaser and never really followed up on it, so here is some more of that

“Hey, Dami?”

Boy hadn’t looked up from the kittens he was bottle feeding but let out a hum indicating he listened.

“I'm thinking about trying out a more girlish style. Do you think it would suit me?”

Well, Damian had no idea but if Dani wished to give it a chance, then, well, the only proper reaction was to offer his aid.

*-*-*

“Father, I require access to your rouge gallery.”

Bruce almost choked on his breakfast when his youngest made this announcement.

Rouge gallery, as his children playfully called it, was vast collection of lipsticks, which he collected to uphold his Brucie persona. Famous playboy with head constantly in the clouds couldn’t not show up with discreet signs of scandal from time to time. And it couldn’t always be the same shade. Or scent when he choose more subtle approach and used one of his more feminine perfumes.

In all honesty, he enjoyed this.

But that’s not the point, point was that Damian wanted to use it and Bruce needed to know what disaster would fall upon him if he agreed.

“Mind telling me why, chum?”

Dick, who visited Manor for a weekend, barely stifled his laughter while Tim stared at his empty coffee mug like it personally betrayed him. Cass just wore her usual knowing and mischievous smile.

Damian shifted in his chair, hands clenching on butter knife. He was nervous and suddenly Bruce dreaded the answer he was about to hear.

“I don’t see how me sharing this information would change anything. It won’t be used to cause harm to anyone but it’s necessary in the extracurricular project I just started.”

“Dami, what project?” Dick asked, voice oozing with genuine curiosity and excitement. He was almost bouncing.

“I don’t want to disclose it.”

“Is this a hero or civilian type of deal?”

Damian didn’t look any of them in the eyes, both hands clenching on his seat as he kept shifting. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was his youngest… flustered?

“Civilian”

“Alright, great” Dick swung back with single clap, almost tripping his chair over “I think B won’t have anything against you using his rouge gallery, will he?” Man knew his oldest son well enough to recognize his ‘don’t you dare to disagree’ tone. He was confused but there wasn’t any harm so he nodded with affirmative hum.

“Thank you, Father”

Boy practically inhaled rest of his food and rushed outside. Despite all his training and all his efforts, they clearly saw his excitement. Tim pinched himself and returned to staring at his mug.

“Cass, have you seen what I’ve seen or am I overreacting?” Dick asked, barely restraining his enthusiasm. Girl nodded eagerly, shoving more crumbs into her mouth. Young man cheered, throwing his hands up.

“What have I missed?” Tim mumbled, frowning a little.

“BABY BAT HAS A CRUSH!”

Cass nodded again with wide smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Who were they? What did he know about them? Was Protocol 3r0s started? Did someone run a background check already? What could they do if they somehow hurt Damian? Was this person a risk to their identities? Oh gods, oh no.

He probably will have to do The Talk™.

He always dreaded having The Talk, with any of his kids. He felt The Talk with Damian would be even worse. Understandably so.

“Also sleep in at least three da-”

“Fuck off, dick.”

“Was this insult or-”

His children remained obvious to how much work it meant, cheering and sassing each other like they often did.

*-*-*

Damian did not know how it was possible but he lowered his guard enough to get caught.

"What are you doing?" Brown choked out after they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It does not concern you–"

"You're rummaging through my wardrobe, not many things concern me more and also, that's frickin creepy don't do it to anyone outside of the family"

She did have a point however he was not convinced it would be the correct approach if he shared his plan. Father's wards (even unofficial like Brown) tended to make assumptions and overreact based on these conjectures. Dani wasn't easy to scare off but he didn't want to check if his family would manage. They often did things thought to be impossible.

He tried to get away but the blonde stood fiercely in a door, leaving the window as the only way out. He wasn't this desperate. Yet.

Girl looked more and more angry at his silence. He had to give her some answers.

Now that he actually considered it, she could be a useful asset. She was far better versed in women's fashion and if he phrased it correctly, he wouldn't even need to bribe her. Question was, how should he phrase it?

"I have an acquaintance- I have a friend," he corrected himself "from the animal shelter I volunteer at. She mentioned wanting to try out more 'girlish style' and asked for my opinion. I wanted to see if you had any clothes that would fit her. She is smaller than me so I thought that whatever I take, it wouldn't be missed." 

Brown grinned with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth if not coming to this room in the first place. 

"Say no more, I have a plan Demon Child"

[mythrilthread]

My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).

Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.

I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.

Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?

This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.

I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.

I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.

For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.

There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.

The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)

Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.

Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.

The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.

The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.

Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.

And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Drops this without any warning

A compilation of all of my prime bros headcannons that I could think of put together over the course of a few months👍👍

———

Sails

-one that is practically cannon to me now; he's is missing his right ear

-he likes making little wood carvings and insists on doing most of them with a sword instead of a knife or a dagger just to be extra (it backfires on his hands most of the time.) His favorite ones to make are models of ships

-generalist but hes the most skilled in woodwork and sea vessel maintnance

-has a beautiful singing voice but rarely uses it and instead opts to sing awfully on purpose.

-will not pass up an opportunity to literally "give you a hand" if you ask and he thinks its funny, but do not funking mess with his prosthetic unless allowed, you will go to sleep with less fingers than you woke up with

-knows how to juggle. No reason for this one I just think Sails knows a bunch of useless but cool party tricks (now there's ripe potential to make this angsty, but I shan't. Not yet.)

-ok so him and Mangey stumbled upon the third episode of Ninjago and rebuilt the Angel's Voyage and it flies now. Don't worry abt it

-insufferable when it comes to any sort of table or card games. He will crush you and play you for an idiot. Somehow, no one can ever prove hes cheating even when he absolutely is. The only one who has enough experience and same low blow tactics, and as such can stand up to him, is Tails

-speaking of which, being annoying is his biggest weapon and also favorite love language. Trust that you will know if the annoying is affectionate or meant to drive you insane (derogatory) though

-adrenaline seeker and worse one than Sonic honestly. Having multiple near death experiences in a single day awakened something in him and by god will he make it everyone else's problem

-his favorite to rile up are Nine and the various Knuckles for obvious reasons and usually clowns on them in the end

-hes also the one you go to if you need to properly get through to Nine and Sonic failed or is unavailable. No one really knows how he does that.

-also loves blowing shit up, explosives are his favorite thing ever

-naps whenever and where ever, most likely outside in the shade of a palm tree either under or in his hammock.

——

Mangey

-NOT stinky or mangy alright, he takes grooming very seriously, he maintains a mohawk of all things like come on!!

-except during the whole friendship breakup exile and purposeful starvation thing between Prim and Thorn, he didn't have acces to water to clean properly and he does not like the feeling of being dirty (holy shit the scavengers were under constant sun with no food or water for God knows how long meanwhile Thorn was suffering from vitamin D deficiency they fucked up fr fr)

-autism be damned my boy figured out how to work the grill (I cannot explain this one beyond do NOT give him access to any sort of fire. And do not tell Sails. By god do not tell Sails.)

-loves those little "impossible to solve" puzzles and especially rubix cubes, he usually gets the hang of everything in under two minutes but it keeps him entertained endlessly

-also loves taking apart things and see how they work and often attempts to replicate the mechanism within in another form. Problem is, not every time he considers if the thing is important or dangerous before he guts it, resulting in... a few incidents, and a lot of calming breathing exercises for Tails

-not a big fan of flat digital interfaces, he needs buttons and levers and stuff

-he wears mismatched black and white gloves (to match Nine!!) and actually gets proper lime green shoes he sometimes wears but prefers not to. He likes the simple familiar leaf shoes he crafted himself

-you know those little simplistic wooden toy trains with train tracks? Sails carves them and Mangey assembles them into increasingly convoluted tracks all over the place. If they get really lucky they can also convince Nine to paint them (which he both hates and loves because by god can he not hold his hands steady but more on that later) There's a whole Rube Goldberg machine set in place involving the track. What it does and how it's triggered varies on a weekly basis.

-really strong sense of hearing and smell due to which he gets overstimulated easily and has headaches often, especially if hes in an area hes not used to.

-speaking of smell, he can not only tell where but How Much food there is, so lies of "sorry this was my last one" will never work, he knows

-he can pretty easily pick up on weather changes, sometimes with the same accuracy as Tails' forecast

-terrified shitless of thunder and lightning, and while it's fairly easy to calm him down, he's unfortunately even easier to startle and not so surprisingly agile

-doesn't have any particular strong feelings abt his tails since people were displeased with him as a Whole and he dissapeared into the jungle before any of that hatered could stick. He likes them because they're a good blanket :]

-hates conflict of any capacity because that just reminds him of Thorn and Prim and the fallout of their falling out, which is why it's for the best to NOt let him witness Shadow and Sonic in close proximity cuz boy Will be UPSET and no matter what you can't explain it to him that they're just gay like that

- he also naps wherever he wants whenever he wants, ussually in a warm and hidden place such as a pile of sun warmed blankets or moss under a tree. Please always dutifully check the dryer before starting it, double check if it was recently used.

——

Nine

-also cannon to me, he's declawed in his left hand and those metal tips serve as a prosthetic so he can actually grip things properly. The same goes for his right wrist that was shattered weirdly once and now needs to be reinforced

-the weird green glowing thing on his right hand he uses as a communicator later in the series is a fucked up looking watch (I was also thinking there's some connection between it and his metal tails since they have the same poison yellow glow but i don't know enough technical lingo to explain myself)

-prefers to stay indoors for all accounts, but loves to star gaze and chill outside at night. Mangey often silently joins him or is the one to drag him outside in the first place. Tell no one else abt this though

-cannot handle literally any spice in his food and he actually nearly died the first time Tails cooked for him since adding chili was just muscle memory and he didn't even think to ask

-but it urns out Nine likes food even more than Mangey which is, concerning, to some people. Always with a snack in hand and eating something, he especially loves fruit. Bro got an apple for the first time in his life and cried (canon I imagined it real hard)

-after the whole prism debacle he was left with some hefty nerve damage and now has fine motor issues, and regular. And has frequent migranes which pisses him off to no end

-actually gets some color into his wardrobe, since he no longer needs to camouflage all the time. His fashion sense is literally just a shirt and pants anyway

-On the off chance he goes into public and someone addresses him there is a tiny gender confusion. This will not have any internal ramifications for her whatsoever

-his nose is absolutely jacked, and so are his lungs. This will also not cause any further concerns either

-Do not fucking touch his tails ever. Mechanical or organic. He will kill you.

-if he let's you touch his tails, congratulations, he will kill and die for you.

-avoided Tails, Knuckles and Rouge like the plague for the first few months he moved in Into green hill for, obvious reasons.

-surprisingly close to Shadow actually??? When did that happen no one really knows

-graffiti!! He does graffiti and paints!!! Him and Sonic take random nights off and commit artistic vandalism on the most hard to reach surfaces for the avarge person. Nine also gloats over Tails and his lacking impressionist artistic skill

-but he's never drawn a blueprint physically and just used a digital program, so it evens out

-actually has a somewhat stable sleep schedule, unfortunately the time dilation between the Shaterspaces makes it seem like he doesn't

-in the event he falls unconscious/asleep his mechanical tails form a silly little cage around him and strike at anything that gets too close. He usually gets to bed before sleeps but in the event he chonks out on his table? Yea no one is getting him from there without having to wake him up first.