#and how much they respect each other............

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Mark x f!idol!reader

summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."

On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."

Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."

On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."

You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.

Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.

And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.

"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."

Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"

"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.

Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"

On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."

It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.

After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.

When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."

You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.

You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.

You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"

Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.

Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...

So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."

When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.

Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"

They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"

"Yes, me!"

After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."

Mark scoffs, "how?"

"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"

Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"

Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."

"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."

"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.

"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.

"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."

"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.

"Anyway, who did you think I was?"

Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."

When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"

"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."

You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."

"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.

Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.

Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.

[chosolar]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

part 1

mdni please! there are sexual themes.

flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?

flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)

flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.

flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.

hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am

he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.

his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.

"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"

satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?

"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"

you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."

"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.

"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."

satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.

his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.

"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"

"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"

it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."

flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.

flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.

flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.

flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.

flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!

flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"

flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.

flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.

flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)

flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.

flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.

flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.

flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.

flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.

flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.

flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist:

@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16

a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈

[lilietsblog]

This is making me think about the Russian subgenre of romantic fantasy, which is like its own entire marketing category that female fantasy writers are kiiinda a little bit shoehorned into.

There's a formula in it that I've found works really well, at least for me. I think it involves borrowing from yet another genre, though I know little enough about it: like... buddy cop?

Basically the premise is that you have two co-leads (with variations on how equal their narrative presence really is), who start out mutually antagonistic for personal reasons and then as the plot Puts Them Into Situations Together they get to know each other better, learn to work together, respect each other etc etc. And then / somewhere in the process also fall in love about it.

(It doesn't usually include any erotica elements - it's not necessarily /chaste/ but the sex scenes are alluded to rather than described, and often in a way that's more crass/funny than sexy for the reader. I'm sure there are exceptions but I can't think of any that I've read off the top of my head. It's quite "for teenagers" target demographic wise)

The fantasy part provides The Main Plot, which is generally some kind of threat on a varying scale: "hometown" is good enough, "the entire inhabitable reality" is actually much rarer, generally it's some kind of "The Kingdom" / "The Alliance" / "The Locality" middle ground with varying detailing of politics. Worldbuilding tends to go hard. Magic wielding protagonists are more common than not, with that middle-soft-hard magic where the /character/ knows all the rules for magic but the reader sure doesn't, you just kind of pick up expectations for how it interacts with plot from the characters' reactions to various plot developments.

The romance part generally relies on the "and then the readers WILL ship them" effect of interpersonal chemistry rather than writing out developing attraction as such. The readers will, in fact, ship them, and even if they don't actively do so, it's still generally a satisfying resolution to Their Respective Personal Arcs (whether they involve learning to respect other people, being more in touch with one's own emotions, or developing agency and learning to assert one's will, or literally just healing from deep trauma and learning to trust again, you know how it is with character development that leads to making friends).

There are occasionally more characters in the ensemble cast, like Rest in Gromyko's Loyal Enemies (or Faithful Enemies, not sure which translation I like better), but the drama still tends to revolve around the main duo - Rest is the male lead's apprentice, and is far more actively hostile to the female lead initially, and his gradual warming up to her is the major visible throughline of the interpersonal subplot (while the tendency of the male lead himself to be far more reserved with expressing his emotions and opinions is a major source of the tension).

I just think it's interesting :3

How did you get so good at writing??? Did you take classes? I feel like you should get paid all the money for this! (I subscribe to your website!)

after i dropped out of high school i found a torrent of like 5GB of OCRd romance novels and i read like 3 romance novels a day for a while

read enough romance novels and you will realize that they live or die entirely on technical skill. if you are new to romance novels then even bad ones can dazzle you with novelty but by the time you are on your 30th historical fake engagement between a bluestocking and a rakish duke you can grade them and you know when they've failed. when two books have what should be the same main characters hitting the same plot beats, but one of those books is delightful and the other fucking sucks, you learn some things. some books are bad and still delightful. other books are good but they just don't hit. you start to see the seams in the bad ones. 'oh, this is a weird out of character moment because she wanted to have the kabedon moment and didn't know how to get there'. 'she didn't want the ust to end but couldn't think of a better reason than this deus ex cockblock.' that kind of thing.

you could probably do this with other genres but i like romance because the plot is two people fall in love. that's it. everything else is set dressing. if you can figure out how to make that work you can carry it over into whatever other genre you feel like. mysteries would give you a different skillset around plotting that i don't have.

anyway after that i wrote a lot.

[fishnapple]

How will they protect the relationship

(lover/partner/future spouse) - Channelled message

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

Sometimes, I fear that you will get used to our relationship to the point of boredom, that our relationship will become just a habit, a routine that you do everyday, mechanically, without enthusiasm or passion. That fear crept in my mind, taking roots, and there will be moments when I let it grow and poke its branches out. Imaginary scenarios swirl in my mind, threatening to spiral out of control.

But I will snap out of it in no time. I'm a master at bringing myself out of the dark, I'm a good runner, running in the night long enough, and you're bound to see the sun rise again. I will try to look at myself first, from an objective lens, to find where I can change, what baggage I need to get rid of. Then I will look at our relationship, I will find a way to lift it up, make it exciting again. Do you like puzzles? Do you like sculpting? Would you like to try a new recipe? Let's forget for a moment all our adult responsibilities and be free. To be excited teenagers again, falling in love for the first time again. I will write you love letters full of typos, sending you half-baked cakes and cringy T-shirts, you will laugh and you will join me.

I do notice that there are some people around us, people who shouldn't come that close, who shouldn't be there at all. They don't understand the concept of respecting other people's boundaries. They will try to turn a blind eye to our commitment, pretend that it doesn't exist. Blatantly coming in without knocking, thinking that they can just take you away from me and me from you. They think that their tactics are subtle enough, that in time, they can corrode our bond. Little touches here and there, the gaze, the "innocent" banters. I can see them all, I will try to put a distance between me and them, so I hope you will do that too, I also hope that you will patiently listen to me when I warn you of those people. Yes, sometimes you will have to call me a possessive person. I just want to shut out everyone dare to threaten us, to find a place where only us exist. But that's impossible, I know, so the best I can do is tell them off as clear as possible, trying to show that we're together, there's no space between us. Let them be jealous, we just need to focus on us and walk away, hand in hand.

GROUP 2

I know we have a lot of unspoken words stuck inside. The silence between can sometimes grow to such a suffocating weight, pushing us down, deeper and deeper into our own abyss.

We both will be so uncertain of our future together, where will we go, is there a place strong enough to shelter us, are we strong enough? We hope for the same things, we are so alike, even our fears are alike, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this.

Our bond will be tested numerous times. There will be a time when we've almost given up, but fate or whatever higher powers are at play here, will bring us back together, anew and ready to try again. I wasn't a spiritual person, but by being with you, being in this relationship, I began to believe in something intangible, in the unknown, it scared me, but all I can do is to move forward, with you, and that's where our fears begin. We move forward together, into the unknown future that holds no concrete promise.

Then I realised we've forgotten to remember where we've put our wishes in, what we've wished for. If we can just remember, then there's no point in worrying. I will give you a hint: it's a wish that spans from the past to the future. We felt like we've known each other for a long time when we first met, and I believe we will be in each other's lives for the far future to see. That belief alone is enough for me to feel brave. And I will sit down, take out my pens and notebook, and begin to scribble down the plan, the path for us, give voice to the stuck words inside, air them out. I will show you that plan and tell you to not worry about the future, instead just focus on this current life in front of us, we got this, believe in us.

GROUP 3

Sometimes, I think that we are two pieces of puzzles fit perfectly together. If not, then there's no way to explain how you have everything I lack, and I, in turn, have an abundance of things that you don't. We have our fair share of issues that alone, we seem to lack the strength to tackle them, but together, they seem so silly and easy. You can be the wind and I will be the pipes, you can be the water and I will be the pump. Now that sounds silly, but you get my gist. There will be times when you cry, I will be there, holding you close and being the cool headed one to make logical decisions. There will be times when I'm so down, you will be there, holding me close and being the soft pillow that raises my head up.

There will be problems, from inside and outside, but I believe we can weather them all. The problems will mainly come from the place of insecurities and misunderstanding. People's words can be cutting and unintentionally hurtful, sometimes intentionally. They sow the seeds of doubts inside our minds. But let's believe in the visions of ourselves and of each other. We see ourselves best. We will sit down, talk it all out, there's no barrier between us. I'm proud of our direct and open way of communicating. I can always count on us to be rational and discuss things until we can reach a solution. Yes, there might be tears and angry voices here and there, but they are the minority and will go away quickly. We're too sure of our commitment and ourselves to let those bother us for too long.

Whatever action needed to be taken, it would be taken swiftly. If it's required of me to be cutting something, somebody out of our life, I will do it, no hesitation. Because I trust in our judgement. And if it's required to move, I will move. I'm afraid distance will be our biggest hurdle. But we will find a way to be closer. Many things will need to be changed, our jobs, our homes. But we won't fear changes. Because changes will bring us to a better future.

GROUP 4

I want to prepare you beforehand, our relationship will be scrutinised by a lot of people. It's not like we are celebrities or anything. Why do they have to care so much? I honestly don't know and don't care either. Our bond just attracts a lot of jealousy and objections. The idea of us together will piss people off. They want something, a fixed future for us, they expect it, but then they have to watch a totally different outcome, surprises, surprises.

Particularly those who have authority over us, they're supposed to be the wise guidance, the benevolent power that can protect us, but they will turn their backs on us, worse, they will turn their sneering gaze and contemptuous words on us. That can't be helped, I guess, we're the rebels, we go against their rules and expectations. I know you will want our bond to be blessed by those around us, I want it too, but reality is something we will have to face. At first, we may even have to hide our love, it's frustrating.

Don't worry, I will be strong for us, you won't even have to fight anything, just let me take care of it. I have enough strength to do that. Don't picture the image of me making a foray against them like a bull thrusting its horn angrily. I have enough wit not to do that, just like how I've charmed you with my words, I can do it too, to other people, the people who are against us. If it doesn't work, then I will just be my best, showing them how much of a good life I'm having with you. In the end, I just don't really care. We have our love and that's enough. We can always move away, to a better place. You will be surprised just how much freedom we do have.

[iseos]

LET THEM KNOW

─── idol!enhypen x gn!reader s. how your relationship is revealed 769 words (~110 each) g. headcannons, fluff w! occasional idol!reader | © iseos library

이희승 — LEE HEESEUNG

— it happened during a livestream. sunoo and jake were live together at their dorm when sunoo read out comment asking about the oldest member. "heeseung? oh, yeah, he's out with his partner, right?" jake said as he looked for something on his phone, seemingly forgetting what the two of them were doing. the chat stilled for a moment before it exploded with thousands of messages as sunoo let out a quiet 'what?' jake nodded and continued to dig himself a bigger hole, "yeah, he's with y/n." it wasn't until he looked up and was met with sunoo’s wide eyes that he realized what he said.

박종성 — JAY PARK

— for weeks fans have noticed a pattern in your and jay's weverse activity. at first, it seemed like a coincidence—one of you posting a song, the other sharing a similar one, or a playlist that had strikingly similar themes. you posted a melancholic ballad with a caption that fans didn't pay much attention to. however, just a few hours later jay shared a song along with a caption that seemingly was responding to yours. it didn't take long for a few observant fans to dig through past posts and notice a pattern of what looked like the two of you were indirectly communicating through song recommendations. while your relationship was never officially announced, it was enough confirmation for fans that something was going on between the two of you.

심재윤 — JAKE SIM

— your relationship was a closely guarded secret, known by only those closest to the two of you. however, things took a turn when one of your friends posted a photo to their public instagram—one that clearly showed you and jake in the background. the photo left no doubt about the status of your relationship, and even though the account didn't have many followers, fans still managed to come across it. despite the immediate scramble to delete the post, screenshots had already gone viral and everyone had seen it.

박성훈 — PARK SUNGHOON

— rumors began surrounding sunghoon when a news outlet claimed he was spotted on a date with an actress. fans were in shock, articles were full of headlines making the same claim, and the company was quick to issue a statement, “we regret to inform that the claims made regarding sunghoon and the actress are completely unfounded and inaccurate.” however, in their hurry to deny the claims, the company added: “we can also confirm sunghoon is in a committed relationship with another individual, who he has been dating for some time. we respectfully ask for the public’s understanding during this time.” in their rush to distance sunghoon from the actress, the company inadvertently confirmed your relationship, a detail that had been previously unknown to fans.

김선우 — KIM SUNOO

— it was the last thing anyone was expecting. an ordinary day disrupted by the company statement confirming your relationship that read: "we would like to officially confirm that y/n and enhypen's sunoo have been in a relationship for several months now. we kindly ask for your continued support and respect for their privacy." the message, while straightforward enough, left fans reeling. most were excited, flooding social media with positive reactions, while others were shocked, trying to process the announcement.

양정원 — YANG JUNGWON

— on new year's eve, the world was focused on fireworks and celebrations, but for k-pop fans their focus was on the highly anticipated dispatch couple reveal. as midnight approached, many people were expecting to see the names of two actors, but they were instead surprised with your and jungwon’s names. pictures accompanied the claim as well, of course. there were photos of the two of you going out to eat while wearing nondescript clothing, and others of either one of you walking into the other's company building; it was enough to solidly convince fans that you were undeniably dating.

西村力 — NISHIMURA RIKI

— it started with a single fan’s post. the fan had been out shopping when they noticed two familiar figures browsing through racks at a high-end clothing store. the two of you were dressed casually, both wearing caps and masks, but your body language was unmistakable. you laughed together, occasionally holding up items for the other to see, and at one point you held a jacket up against niki to check the fit. the fan, stunned, quickly took a discreet photo and posted it online. the post gained traction immediately and within hours, it had snowballed into a collection of sightings. fans began piecing together a timeline of occasions where the two of you were seen together. the rumor was never addressed directly, but the increasing sightings with less protection to hide your identities only added fuel to the fire.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Hey author,

Loved your work! I have a request for a Max Verstappen fiction. Here's the idea:

Max Verstappen and the Reader have been friends since childhood and started dating when they were 15. The Reader is currently the number one ranked tennis player, with 2 Wimbledon titles, 3 French Open titles, and 2 Australian Open titles to her name. She is the best in women's singles and doubles tennis at the moment.

The Reader is a badass, known for her fiery press conferences and domination on the court, much like how Max is in racing. Despite being a power couple in front of the world, they are very vulnerable and weak for each other. They know the struggles both have been through—she understands the impact Max's childhood and his father, Jos, have had on him, and he knows the challenges she faces, including attacks and pressures from the media.

They are incredibly supportive of each other. Max attends all her Grand Slam matches, and she visits his races. They are deeply in love and very open with each other, understanding each other's feelings and experiences.

That's the type of story I have in mind. I hope you like it!

Best regards,

Anon.

Power Couple

Summary: Max Verstappen and the Reader have been friends since childhood and started dating when they were 15. The Reader is currently the number one ranked tennis player, with 2 Wimbledon titles, 3 French Open titles, and 2 Australian Open titles to her name. She is the best in women's singles and doubles tennis at the moment.

Song: Slow Down · Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: I hardly had any ideas for this one but I tried my best! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 6.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

It's messy, chaotic, and punctuated by the sharp thwack of a tennis ball and the roar of a finely tuned engine. It’s the story of you and Max, a whirlwind that started when you were both just fifteen, a story that’s still unfolding in the dazzling glare of the spotlight.

You were fifteen and a force of nature on the tennis court, even back then. Your name was already whispered with respect in junior circuits. You carried a racquet like an extension of your arm, and your focus was so intense it was almost palpable.

That summer, your training brought you to a small, dusty tennis club nestled in the Dutch countryside, a far cry from the manicured lawns of Wimbledon, but the perfect place to hone your craft.

He was there too. Not on the court, but lurking near the chain-link fence, a lanky boy with eyes the colour of storm clouds and a mop of unruly brown hair perpetually falling into his face. You'd noticed him, of course.

How could you not? He was the only teenager there whose attention wasn't glued to the endless practice sessions. Instead, he seemed more interested in the growl of the beat-up scooter he’d arrived on.

One day, during a water break, you were staring down at the worn-out grip on your Wilson when he spoke.

"That's a good shot," he said, his voice still cracking with that awkward teen timbre.

You looked up, surprised, and saw him leaning against the fence, an almost shy smile playing on his lips. "You mean the forehand?" you asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you hadn't quite shaken off.

He shrugged, his eyes dancing with something you couldn't quite place. "I don't know. All of them, I guess? You look like you're trying to kill the ball."

A chuckle escaped you. "It's called intensity."

"Yeah, well, I like it." He pushed off the fence and walked a little closer. "I'm Max."

"You know, I've noticed," you teased, a smirk spreading across your face. "Always lurking by the gate."

His grin widened, making him look younger and somehow much more approachable. "Lurking? I prefer… observing." He paused, then gestured towards your racket. “Do you think you could teach me to hit like that?”

And just like that, a friendship was born, as naturally as the changing of seasons. You didn't actually teach him to play tennis, you decided, though, that he was far more enthralled with the intricate mechanics of his racing kart, and you found yourself drawn to the way his eyes lit up whenever he spoke about the feeling of speed and control.

You spent the rest of your summer evenings not on the court, but tinkering with his kart in his garage, or racing against each other on the empty country roads, the roar of engines a stark contrast to the quiet thud of tennis balls you were used to.

You taught him a little about the precision and discipline you carried from your sport while he showed you how to embrace a more reckless, unbridled kind of passion.

As the weeks passed, those shared moments morphed into something deeper. One warm evening, after a long day at the track, you found yourselves lying on the grass, looking up at the stars.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable and charged, until he turned his head, and his hand brushed against yours.

"You know," he said, his voice low, "I can't imagine not having you here. You're… unlike anyone I've ever met."

Your heart hammered against your ribs. You had thought the same thing, again and again. "You're kinda different yourself, Verstappen," you whispered, your gaze fixed on his face.

He picked up your hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “Are you going to let me kiss you?” he asked, his stormy blue eyes searching yours.

You didn’t hesitate. You tilted your head slightly, and that soft, hesitant kiss was the start of something bigger than either of you could have imagined.

The next few years were a blur of teenage milestones, shared victories, and the quiet comfort of understanding each other. You traveled the world, following your dreams. You were winning Grand Slams.

You mastered the art of the backhand and the perfect serve, while he climbed the ranks in the world of Formula 1, learning the intricacies of high-speed racing and the relentless demands of the professional circuit.

You learned to navigate the complexities of a long-distance relationship, the bittersweet ache of goodbyes followed by the heady joy of reunions.

You’d meet in far-flung corners of the world, a stolen weekend in Monaco, a quick coffee in London, sharing late-night calls across different time zones, finding solace in each other’s voices.

You learned to listen, not just with your ears, but with your heart, understanding the unspoken language of ambition and dedication, of relentless pursuit, from someone who truly understood what was involved.

He was there in the stands when you clinched your first Wimbledon title, his applause echoing louder than the roar of the crowd, his pride radiating across the stadium.

You, in turn, were glued to the screen, every race day a nail-biting affair as you chanted his name like a magic spell. You celebrated his wins with unabashed joy, commiserated over his losses with a fierce loyalty that only a childhood best friend, a lover, could offer.

Your life now is a whirlwind of press conferences, sponsor obligations, and the unwavering pressure to stay at the top.

You glide across the court, a graceful yet powerful force, your focus sharp and unflinching, yet when you catch a glimpse of Max in the crowd, you allow yourself a secret smile, a silent reminder of your shared history, of the kid he was all those years ago. He is a reminder of that simpler time.

There are moments, like now, after another grueling day on the court, when you close your eyes and let the roar of the crowd fade away, replaced by the rumble of his scooter and the memory of his first shy smile.

You might be number one in the world of tennis, a name whispered in awe, but you know, the best title you've ever earned is his girlfriend. And that, you think, is the greatest prize of all.

And, as you’re getting ready for the next press conference, you're thinking of the next time you see him. The thought has you smiling again. . . .

The roar of the crowd is a familiar symphony, a constant hum beneath your focused breath. You adjust the headband, the familiar terry cloth a comfort against the glare of the stadium lights. Wimbledon’s Centre Court is your kingdom, the lush green grass your canvas.

You’re leading 5-3 in the third set against Elena Rybakina, a formidable opponent, your every move calculated, precise. A serve, a blur of motion – ace. The roar erupts, a wave of sound that threatens to lift you off your feet.

You know you've got this, the title within your grasp. You’ve worked for this, bled for this, every single grueling practice session, every sacrifice, all culminate in this moment.

You win the game, the match, and the crowd goes wild. The air crackles with energy, the taste of victory sweet on your tongue. You shake hands with Rybakina, a brief, respectful acknowledgment of the battle fought, then raise your arms in a triumphant arc.

Another Wimbledon title under your belt. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the familiar mix of elation and exhaustion. It’s a high like no other, but underneath that surge of victory there's another feeling, a quiet hum of anticipation.

You know who’s waiting for you.

The post-match media scrum is a blur - flashes, questions, microphone in your face. You handle it all with your usual icy grace, your well-honed responses a shield against the endless prodding.

You’re used to it; it comes with the territory of being the best. But you’re itching to escape its glare. You see your agent, Sarah, giving you a quick nod, and you know it's your cue. A few more polite words, another practiced smile, and then you're slipping away, finally free of the spotlight.

You find him in the players' lounge, perched on a sofa, his eyes tracking yours as you walk in. Max. He stands as you approach, a smile playing on his lips that makes your heart do that familiar little flip.

The harsh lines that often harden his face are softened when he looks at you. He gathers you into his arms, his embrace both fierce and gentle.

"You were incredible," he whispers against your hair, his voice roughened with emotion. "An absolute beast out there."

"Thanks, you," you murmur, breathing in his scent, the familiar comfort of it grounding you after the storm of the match. You pull back slightly, your gaze catching his. “Did you watch the whole thing? Even with your schedule?”

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. You were destroying her. Honestly, you're the most dangerous person I know." You laugh at that, a genuine laugh that’s rare these days, a laugh that only he can draw out of you.

Later, back at the house in Monaco, you sit side-by-side on the balcony, the Mediterranean Sea shimmering under the moonlight. He holds your hand, his thumb tracing patterns on your knuckles.

In this serene space, the world outside fades away. The tension that always seems to cling to you both loosens, the relentless pressure of your careers receding into the background.

"You know," Max begins, his voice quiet, "sometimes I still can't believe it. You, the best there is. Not just in the world, but the best there could ever be.”

You turn to him, your eyes searching his. "And you?" you ask him, “World Champion twice? Sometimes I can't believe you’re not some superhuman entity.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze unwavering. "We both push ourselves to the edge, and beyond," he says. "It's what makes us who we are, isn’t it?"

"Yeah," you agree, leaning your head against his shoulder. "But it's also why we need each other." The silence that follows is comfortable, a space filled with shared understanding, a knowing that transcends words.

The days that follow are a brief reprieve, stolen moments away from the relentless cycle of competition. You spend them walking along the coast, laughing, rediscovering the simplicity of just being together.

But the respite is always fleeting, the demands of your respective careers always looming on the horizon. You’re due to fly out for a tournament in Washington D.C. in a week, and Max is scheduled for a race in Hungary two weeks after that.

The night before you leave, the atmosphere is thick with a quiet anticipation. You’re curled up on the sofa, your favourite movie playing softly on the TV, but neither of you is paying much attention.

Max pulls you closer, his hand slipping beneath your t-shirt, tracing the curve of your back. His skin is always warm against yours, a familiar comfort.

"I wish you didn't have to go," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I hate being away from you."

You turn to face him, your fingers cupping his cheek. "I wish I didn't either, but we know how this goes. We’re just two very busy, very overachieving maniacs.”

He smiles, a flash of his boyish charm. "Yeah, but that's why I love you. You’re as insane as I am." He leans in, his lips finding yours, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist.

The morning you leave, the goodbyes are short, a quick kiss on the lips and a promise to call every day. You watch his car disappear down the driveway, a small ache settling in your chest.

It's the same ache you feel every time you part ways, a reminder of your connection, a reminder of what you have to come back to.

The tournament in D.C. is a brutal battle. You're seeded first, as always, and the pressure is immense. You win the first few rounds with your usual dominance, but then come up against a rising star, a young American player who pushes you to your absolute limit.

The match goes to five sets, each point a war of attrition. You’re exhausted by the end, but you win, the taste of victory bittersweet.

That night, you’re in the hotel room, the city lights twinkling outside your window. You’re on a call with Max, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

He’s telling you about his practice sessions, the improvements he’s made to his car, and you’re listening intently, your mind drifting away from the exhaustion and the pressure.

“You were so close out there,” he says suddenly, “your match was insane, I was so nervous.”

“You always are,” you giggle, picturing his intense face watching your match on the TV. “Just like how I feel every race you’re in.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, the hum of the call a gentle lull. “I’m proud of you,” he says, his voice soft, “you always make me so proud.”

“And I you,” you murmur, a lump forming in your throat.

“I love you,” he whispers, and you feel like you're home again, all the way across the world.

“Love you too, always.”

You fall asleep with his voice still ringing in your ears. The next morning, you wake up to a phone call you weren't expecting. It’s Sarah, your agent, and her voice is strained.

"There's been an accident," she says, her voice barely a whisper, "Max... he was in a crash during practice."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. The room spins, the world blurring at the edges. Your breath catches in your chest, a cold dread gripping your heart.

"How bad?" you manage to ask, your voice shaking.

"We don't know yet," she says, the uncertainty in her voice doing little to assuage the terror that’s now flooding you. "You need to come home, now."

The next few hours are a chaotic blur. You’re on autopilot, racing through airports and boarding planes, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You barely register the faces around you, the sounds of the world muted, as if you're underwater.

All you can think of is Max, his face, his smile, his voice. The thought of losing him is unbearable.

You arrive in Monaco in the dead of night. The house feels cold and empty, the silence deafening. You make your way to the hospital, your every step heavy, the weight of your fear pressing down on you.

You find him in a small, sterile room, his body connected to monitors. He’s pale and still, his face almost hidden by the shadows. You feel like you’ve been ripped open, the pain so sharp it steals your breath.

You rush to his side, your fingers reaching for his hand. His skin is cold, but his grip tightens around yours, a small, reassuring squeeze.

His eyes flutter open, and he looks at you, a flicker of recognition in his gaze. "You’re here," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Max,” you breathe, a sob catching in your throat. Tears are streaming down your face as you gently cup his face. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He smiles weakly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I knew you would be,” he murmurs, his eyes closing again, “always, even when I’m an idiot driving a race car.”

You don’t say anything, you just sit beside him, holding his hand, and watching him breathe, a silent promise passing between you, a bond forged in childhood, strengthened by shared triumphs and endured through deep pain - a love that would always, always persevere. . . .

The scent of burnt rubber and high-octane fuel clings to him even before the door shuts. You hear the familiar click of the lock, and then the heavier thud of his boots hitting the tiles of the hallway.

You’re sprawled on the couch, a worn-out copy of “Open” by Andre Agassi resting on your chest. Jimmy, the ginger behemoth, is purring like a motorboat on your left thigh, while Sassy, the sleek black panther, is curled into a perfect ebony question mark at your feet.

They’ve been your constant companions during the lull before your next tournament.

“Hey,” Max’s voice is low, tired, but a ripple of warmth underlies it. You open your eyes, the intense afternoon sun filtering in through the tall living room windows making the world outside a blur of gold and green.

You push Agassi off your chest, feeling the book’s weight leave a slight indent.

“Hey yourself,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. You watch as he shrugs off his jacket, the Red Bull logo on his polo a vibrant dash of color against the muted tones of the room.

He looks drained, the lines around his eyes slightly more pronounced than you remember from the last time he was home. You know those lines; they’re etched by the relentless pressure of Formula 1, the constant travel, the unending pursuit of milliseconds.

He kneels beside the couch, reaching out a hand to scratch behind Jimmy's ears. The cat pushes his head into Max’s palm, a rumbling purr vibrating through his frame.

“They’ve missed you,” you murmur, running a hand down Sassy’s velvety back.

Max glances up at you, his blue eyes, usually so sharp and focused, are a little softer now, a touch vulnerable and definitely possessive. “Not as much as I missed you,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on your face.

You feel the familiar warmth spread through your chest. It's crazy how after all these years, the simple act of him looking at you like that can still make your heart do somersaults.

He settles onto the couch, his long legs stretching out and nearly touching your feet. He pulls you into his side, and you nestle in, the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby.

The tension in his body is palpable. “Bad race?” you ask softly, tracing small circles on his arm with your fingertip.

He sighs, a gust of air escaping his lips. “Third,” he replies, the single word carrying a weight that you understand completely. “Just… not good enough, you know?”

You nod, because you do know. You've had your share of crushing defeats, the sting of a missed shot, the frustration of an opponent playing out of their skin. You’ve both built entire empires on a foundation of ambition, a constant striving for perfection, despite the inherent impossibility of it.

You know how those ‘not good enough’ days can feel.

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” you say, your head resting against his shoulder. There’s no need for platitudes or empty reassurances. He knows that you know.

A wry smile touches his lips. “Easy for you to say. You’re basically untouchable on the court right now.”

You chuckle, a low, confident sound that ripples through his frame. “Untouchable? Please. I just know how to make my opponents sweat a little.”

You raise your eyebrows, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He is so well aware of the press conferences where you don't mince your words.

He lets out a genuine laugh then, the sound is music to your ears. It’s raw and real. “That's the understatement of the century,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “The way you went off on that reporter after your French Open semi-final was legendary."

You roll your eyes dramatically, though you can't suppress the grin that spreads across your face. “He asked if I was scared of my opponent. Scared. As if. I’d rather face a thousand of those volleys than go through another interview like that.”

He pulls you closer, his arm tightening around you. "You're fierce," he murmurs, burying his face in your hair. "On and off the court. It's... it's one of the things I love about you.”

“And you’re terrifying behind the wheel,” you tease, knowing that a lot of his race opponents are afraid of him on the track.

He chuckles again, a low rumble against your ear. “And you love that too,” he says, the teasing note in his voice back.

You don’t bother denying it. He knows you too well. You know him too well. You’ve built something that is so incredibly strong because it was always built together. You’ve seen each other through the highs and lows, the wins and losses, the triumphs and the heartbreaks.

You’ve navigated the pressures of fame, the relentless scrutiny, the isolating nature of being at the top – together. You were just kids when it started, two teenagers with big dreams and even bigger personalities.

You fell in love navigating the ups and downs of life, and you grew up together, which made things that much stronger.

The silence that follows is comfortable, filled with the unspoken language that only two people who have known each other for so long can share. You can feel the tension slowly leaving him, as if your presence is a balm to his weary soul.

“Tournament soon?” he asks, his voice muffled against your hair.

“Yeah,” you reply, “Dubai. In a week.” You know the time change between Dubai and Europe will be brutal, but you’ve become accustomed to that aspect of your career.

He lifts his head and looks at you, his gaze intense. “You’ll crush them,” he says with absolute certainty.

You smile, the confidence in his voice a tangible thing. “Just like you’re going to leave them all in the dust next race, huh?”

He grins, that familiar flash of competitive fire returning to his eyes. “You know it.”

You trace the line of his jaw, your fingers lingering on the slight stubble. You could spend hours like this, just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s presence, the noise of the world fading away.

There’s a vulnerability in him that only you get to see, a softness that he hides from the cameras, the reporters, the rivals. And in return, he gets to see a side of you that very few have been privy to, the quiet tenderness that lies beneath the fiery exterior.

“Want to order some takeaway?” you ask, the thought of cooking suddenly feeling like a monumental task.

“Pizza?” he suggests, his eyes already sparkling with the thought.

“Only if it has pineapple,” you tease, knowing that it is the most controversial thing you could possibly say.

Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “You are absolutely going to be the death of me,” he says, but the smile on his face belies his words.

You laugh, the sound light and free. You lean in, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s the taste of home, a place where you are both just Max and you, where the pressures of the world are just whispers in the distance.

You know that outside this space, you are both world-class athletes with unwavering determination, but in each other’s arms, you are just two people who grew up together. Who fell in love.

Who, despite the relentless demands of your careers, will always find their way back to each other. You are, after all, each other’s constant. You are, and will always be, each other’s home.

The roar of the engine was a familiar lullaby, a sound that had been a constant soundtrack to your life since you were kids, perched on the sidelines of karting tracks, watching Max whiz by in a blur of red and orange.

Now, instead of a flimsy kart, you were strapped into a beast of a car, the smell of hot rubber and high-octane fuel filling your nostrils. You glanced at the familiar, focused profile of Max beside you, the set of his jaw a testament to his concentration.

This was supposed to be a fun exercise, a publicity stunt dreamed up by Red Bull’s marketing department – the world’s number one tennis player, and the reigning Formula One Champion, taking a joyride. Except, this wasn’t a joyride.

This was a terror ride, and you were pretty sure your heart was currently trying to stage a coup and escape from your chest.

“Max,” you started, your voice a little too high pitched, a far cry from the confident, booming voice that usually echoed through stadium press boxes. “You know I’m used to your speed, right? On the track, where it's meant to be, not on some random circuit at 300 km/h.”

He didn’t answer, just a subtle twitch of his lips hinting at a suppressed grin. You gripped the grab handle on your side of the car so hard your knuckles turned white.

It was no secret that Max, much like you on the tennis court, thrived on pushing boundaries. He was a master of controlled chaos on the track, and right now, you weren’t so sure about the "controlled" part.

The car accelerated, forcing you back into your seat. You let out a yell, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you.

You were used to controlling your own trajectory, predicting your opponent’s next move, the satisfying thump of a perfectly placed serve. This, this was utterly out of your hands, at the mercy of Max’s foot on the accelerator pedal.

“Max! Verdomme! Slow down!” You bellowed, resorting to Dutch as your carefully constructed composure shattered into a million pieces. You could feel the g-force pressing against you, throwing your head against the headrest as he took a corner at an impossible speed.

You braced yourself, bracing your hands against the dashboard, trying to find something solid to cling to.

You could hear him chuckling, the sound muffled but distinct. You could practically see the mischievous glint in his eyes, even though you were looking straight at the dashboard.

“What, is the little tennis star scared?” He teased, his voice laced with amusement.

He downshifted, the revs of the engine screaming higher, and you swore you felt your stomach try to migrate up into your throat.

“Scared?! I’m not scared!” You shouted back, partially for his benefit, mostly for yours. “I’m just… concerned about the structural integrity of this car. And my very delicate internal organs!” You knew you sounded pathetic, not the self-assured athlete the world knew and feared, but you couldn’t help it.

This was Max Verstappen, after all. He had a unique way of bringing out your most ridiculous, human side.

He laughed again, a full, genuine laugh this time, the kind that made your heart flutter even while your stomach was performing gymnastics.

He glanced over at you, a grin playing on his face. “Relax, schatje. I have it under control.”

And maybe, just maybe, you did believe him, for a split second anyway. Then he slammed on the gas and you screamed again, a string of Dutch curses pouring out of your lips as you gripped the headrest with an iron fist.

Each turn was a rollercoaster, each acceleration a punch to your gut. You found yourself cursing in Dutch, English, and even a little bit of French, a linguistic mashup fuelled by sheer terror.

You caught glimpses of the blur outside, the landscape a streaks of green and brown. You tried to focus on breathing, trying to regain a semblance of control over your runaway emotions, but every time he hit the accelerator, you lost it again.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, or perhaps just a few minutes of extreme adrenaline, the car slowed, and pulled into a stop. You were slumped back in your seat, a sweaty, disheveled mess.

“That was… an experience,” you managed, your voice still a bit shaky.

He turned to you, his eyes sparkling as he gave you a wide, triumphant grin. “Fun, right?”

You almost laughed, a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “Fun? Max, I think I aged at least five years in that car.” You reached up and felt your pulse, which was still trying to break free.

He tilted his head, the playful gleam still dancing in his eyes. “But you said you're used to my speed."

You threw your hands up. “Yes, but I didn’t know you’d be trying to scare me, you… absolute menace.”

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated in your chest, and then reached over and undid your seatbelt. As he did, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Maybe just a little.”

You felt yourself blush, despite the fact that you were also on the verge of throttling him. As he stepped out of the car, you took a moment to collect yourself, smoothing your clothes and trying to appear somewhat pulled together.

As you reached up, your fingers brushed something small and hard attached to the car’s dashboard. It was a camera, aimed directly at you.

Your eyes widened, and then everything clicked into place. The teasing laughter, the exaggerated acceleration, the playful comments – it had all been an elaborate, incredibly mischievous ploy.

You burst out laughing, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that echoed around the open space. You couldn't help it. It was absurd, ridiculous, and completely, utterly Max.

You covered your face with your hands, still laughing. He watched you, his eyes sparkling, a smile playing on his lips.

“Did you get all of that?” you exclaimed, still chuckling. “The screaming in multiple languages? The death grips on the dashboard?"

He shrugged, pretending to look innocent, but the smirk on his face told another story. “Maybe.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice laced with amusement rather than anger.

“Only for you,” he replied, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

You lowered your hands, a smile now playing on your lips. “I should have known, shouldn’t I? That you would never just do a normal lap with me.”

He took a step closer, his eyes meeting yours. “Where’s the fun in normal, liefje?”

You knew he was right. Normal was boring. And as much as the terror of the hot lap had made you want to wring his neck, you also wouldn't trade it for anything.

It was another reminder of the chaotic dance you and Max had always been in, a dance of adrenaline, teasing, and a love that ran as deep as the engine roar that had been the background to your lives.

This was your Max, and despite your near-death experience, you wouldn't have him any other way. You stepped out of the car, ready to face the world, and whatever else he decided to throw your way. The camera might have captured your terrified screams, but it had missed the grin that was now plastered across your face.

You were ready for your next match but you were also ready for whatever chaos Max decided to unleash next.

Life with him was never boring, and you wouldn't have it any other way. . . .

The crisp December air nips at your cheeks as you step out of the car, the familiar rumble of Max's engine fading behind you. You pull your coat tighter, adjusting your beanie, a small smile playing on your lips.

The holidays. A welcome respite from the relentless pressure of the tennis circuit. A chance to breathe, to ground yourself before the Australian Open looms. And, most importantly, time with Max.

He's already by the padel court, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he bounces a ball. Lando and Charles are there too, bickering about something trivial, their usual competitive energy already buzzing.

“Took you long enough, slowpoke,” Max teases, tossing the ball to you.

“Traffic,” you retort, catching it easily. “Besides, someone had to pack the snacks, didn’t they?”

Lando groans dramatically. “Snacks? You brought snacks? This is serious competition, woman!”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of your on-court persona flickering through. “Oh, I thought this was just a friendly get-together. Unless you’re scared, Lando?”

He splutters, Charles chuckling beside him. “Scared? Of you? Please. Just wait until I unleash my padel prowess.”

Max wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Don’t listen to him, liefje. We’ll crush them.”

That Dutch endearment always makes you melt, and a genuine smile spreads across your face. He knows exactly how to disarm you.

The game starts, and the air is filled with the thwack of the ball, playful taunts, and the occasional groan of exertion. You and Max move with a practiced synchronicity, years of playing (and bickering) together evident in your easy communication.

Max is surprisingly good at padel, his reflexes honed by years of racing, and you find yourself relying on his power, setting him up for winning shots.

“That’s cheating! You have your wife on your team,” Lando grumbles, wiping sweat from his brow after another point you and Max win.

“Jealous, are we?” you retort, grinning. “Maybe you should find yourself a tennis champion girlfriend.”

Charles snorts. “Good luck with that. Finding someone who can keep up with you is a challenge.”

You playfully shove Charles’ shoulder. “I’m not that intimidating.”

Max squeezes your hand. “Oh, you are. Especially when you give those death stares on court.”

He's right, of course. You can be ruthless. You have to be. The pressure to stay on top is immense, the media constantly scrutinizing every move, every word. The expectation is suffocating sometimes.

Later, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the court, you’re sitting on the bench, catching your breath.

The score is ridiculously lopsided in yours and Max’s favor. Lando and Charles have conceded defeat, blaming everything from the altitude to the snack selection.

Max sits beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders. “You were amazing out there,” he says, his voice soft. “Like always.”

“So were you,” you reply, leaning into him. “You know, for a race car driver.”

He laughs, a warm, comforting sound. “It's all about reflexes, liefje. And a killer instinct.”

He understands that killer instinct in you, the drive to win, the unwavering focus. He sees it because he possesses it too.

It binds you together, this shared understanding of the relentless pursuit of excellence, the sacrifices required, the price you both pay.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. “With everything… the media, the pressure. Are you okay?”

It's a question he asks often, a constant check-in, a reminder that he’s there, always. It's a tenderness he rarely shows the world, a vulnerability reserved only for you.

You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It’s tough. The whispers, the judgment… sometimes it feels like I'm living under a microscope.”

“I know,” he says, his voice laced with empathy. “They’re brutal. They try to tear you down because they’re jealous of what you’ve achieved.”

He knows what it’s like to be under that kind of scrutiny, to have every mistake magnified, every victory questioned. He lived it his entire life, his father's relentless expectations and the constant pressure to perform.

You trace a pattern on his jeans with your finger. “It’s different for you, though. You have the car, the team… you’re surrounded by people who support you, who believe in you.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm. “And you don’t?”

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Of course, I do. But it’s… lonely at the top. Everyone wants something from you. It’s hard to know who to trust.”

He understands that too. The isolation that comes with success, the constant questioning of motives.

“You have me,” he says, his voice unwavering. “You always have me. And I know it’s not the same, but Lando and Charles… they care about you too. We all see how hard you work, how much you dedicate yourself to your sport.”

He pulls you closer, his warmth enveloping you. “Don’t let them break you, liefje. You’re stronger than they think. Stronger than you even give yourself credit for.”

His words are like a balm to your soul, a reminder of your strength, your resilience. He sees you, truly sees you, the fierce competitor and the vulnerable woman beneath.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… sometimes it gets overwhelming.”

He kisses your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Then let me carry some of the weight. That’s what I’m here for.”

The sun has almost completely disappeared, and the air is getting colder. Lando and Charles are packing up their things, their boisterous energy subdued.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Lando calls out. “We’re heading back. You coming?”

You look at Max, a silent question in your eyes.

He squeezes your hand again. “Go. I’ll stay a little longer. I want to watch the stars.”

You nod, knowing he needs the quiet, the solitude. He finds peace in the vastness of the night sky, a reminder that his problems, his pressures, are small in the grand scheme of things.

You stand up, giving Max one last kiss. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

As you walk away, you glance back at him. He’s sitting on the bench, his head tilted back, gazing at the stars. In that moment, he looks so young, so vulnerable.

The weight of the world, the expectations of millions, seem to melt away, leaving only a man searching for solace in the vastness of the universe.

You know you would do anything for him, fight anyone who dared to hurt him. You are his anchor, just as he is yours.

Later that night, you find him on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, still staring at the stars. You join him, slipping under the blanket, pressing close to his side.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, your voice soft.

He lets out a long sigh. “Just… everything. The season, the pressure, the expectations.”

You reach out and take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re going to be okay, Max. You’re the best. You always have been.”

He turns to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and tenderness. “And you? Are you going to be okay?”

You smile, a genuine, heartfelt smile. “With you by my side? Always.”

You lean in and kiss him, a long, slow kiss that speaks of years of shared history, of unspoken understanding, of unwavering love.

In that moment, under the vast expanse of the starry sky, you are just two people, connected by a bond that transcends the pressures of fame and the demands of the world.

You are simply Max and you, a team, a partnership, a love that has endured the test of time and the scrutiny of the world. And that, you realize, is all that truly matters. . .

[nutsackx]

POKÉMON X THE OUTSIDERS AU

info under images lol

if anyone reposts these like the cowboy or scientist au I’m deleting my whole account watch your bakc

I’m gonna preface this by saying I haven’t played or even really indulged in Pokémon for like… 7 years so forgive me if any of this is off or doesn’t make sense…

ANYWAY!!

Original gang is just the Curtis brothers. Ponyboy, after years of putting it off to put time into school, decides he’s finally ready to try being a Pokémon trainer (he’s a bit of a late bloomer, starting at 14 instead of ten…yikes). Usually, their father would’ve helped him on his journey….but he’s, dead, so. 

Darry agrees to help him, eventually Soda gets dragged along too because he’s worried Pony and Darry fighting 24/7 will ruin the experience for Ponyboy. And, Soda, being a Pokémon ranger, has a lot more knowledge than even Darry about how to safely go about this. 

First they come across Steve. Soda and him are already besties, of course. And they have kinda a rivalry going on where they are constantly tryin to one-up each other (all in good faith lmao). It’s not until Steve starts talking about how he started with Pokémon that Darry realizes just how different it was than when he was starting out. Steve agrees to come along, mainly saying he thinks Pony’s gonna get himself killed cus’ he SUCKS!!

After all the yada yada and defeating his first gym leader, Pony finds a dead Radicate and REFUSES to move on until they give the poor creature a proper burial. Since they’re already relatively close, Darry redirects the group to Lavender Town. 

While inside Pokémon tower, they come across a decrepit, old, decaying black-belt class trainer (Mr.Miyagi ((yeah I put him in here, what are you gonna do about it?)),sorry for all the mean adjectives) who of course starts being an old man and going on and on about the boy he fosters there and how weird he’s acting lately (Darry refuses to interrupt because he RESPECTS HIS ELDERS!!!). 

Mr.Miyagi admits that not being around people his age has probably messed with his development, practically calling the boy a hermit, and asks the guys to bring him along in exchange for a very strong Gengar (for Pony, ofc). Darry, upon hearing that the boy is a strong fighter and MUCH quieter then the rest of the freaks he’s dealing with, agrees. 

They go from floor to floor looking for him, eventually finding a cloaked figure on some fuckass floor idk. It takes a minute but they’re like, damn, this hoe possessed! And they battle him, he’s hard to beat but they do it eventually, yada yada. Johnny then takes the hood off, apologizes profusely, and explains that he’s a channeler but not really good at his job yet. (also imagine him with the most fuckass stutter, like Shaky from rdr)

The guys inform him about their promise to Mr.Miyagi, Johnny’s upset for t-minus two minutes before he’s just like “whatever okay” and joins them. (Quickly becomes the favorite, ofc, because he can actually shut his damn mouth). 

They move on to the next gym, yk how it goes…but yeah they come across a traveling circus. And you’ll NEVER GUESS WHO IS A CLOWN!! 

So anyway, Clown-bit, we love him. They come across him, agree to fight so he’ll give them some food and pokeballs, and Pony beats his ASS. 

They don’t really invite Two-Bit along (they think he’s annoying…who doesn’t?) but he just joins anyway. Imagine like constant clown puns. Also he and Johnny quickly take a liking to each other cus’ they’re both kinda outcasts of the group (Johnny’s known the guys for like, a week…and Two-bit Just showed up. Also, we need more Johnny and Two-Bit friend content so).

They keep going, Pony defeats a few more gym leaders, and takes notice that a lot of them seem to recognize someone on their team. When he askes, Johnny admits to being the son of one of the elite four. At first, Pony is thrilled by the info, until he pries a little more and realizes Johnny’s father was an abusive asshole and pretty much sent him away to Pokémon tower to force him into becoming a trainer. Yikes. 

Anyway, on their journey they come across some UGLY blonde guy, like one of those biker trainer classes yk..? Anyway yeah it’s Dallas, shocker. He kinda just gets in their way and refuses to move until they ALL battle him. Obviously, they don’t wanna do that, a lot of work for some ugly freak (did I mention he’s ugly?). 

They agree to let Ponyboy fight him, but he uh…loses. After a bit of back and forth Dallas agrees to let them go if they help him get to the Indigo Plateau in Kanto, so he can face off against the Elite Four there (his bike is old, cus yk…he’s poor.) 

Darry at this point has an entire league of teenagers following him around, so he’s like what’s one more? And boom they move on. 

I don’t have much planned out from here (this was all pulled from my ass anyway). Maybe the Shepards can be like…the Team Rocket of this AU?? And Soc’s are the gym leaders. 

Also, Yeah Cherry and Marcia are both Kanto elite four cus I SAID SO!!! And uh…Johnny and Cherry are dating because it’s MY AU AND I DO WHAT I WANT!!!! She’s the breadwinner and that’s okay, we love her for it <3

twobit prolly falls in love with Marcia when he sees her but idk if she’d reciprocate with an actual clown. Mayeb Randy lowered her standards???

anyway. That is all. Might flesh this out more if the obsession grows, or it’ll die in a week like the Crazy Scientist stuff. Oh well!

EXPLANATION OF DESIGNS/MORE INFO—

Ponyboy

CLASS: Youngster 

Ngl his design took very little time…..oops

his cap hides a really bad dye job, and he refuses to take it off

He chose squirtle as his starter, idrk why but squirtle just suits him. Maybe cus he almost drowned!!

Would’ve fought to the DEATH if he didn’t get squirtle. This boy knows what he wants 

He has a little pokeball necklace that his mom got him as a joke, will kill someone for it 

He deffo has a really nerdy messenger bag that he keeps all of his stuff in

He’s scared of his own Beedrill 

He does NOT need those glasses. But he likes them becuase he thinks they make him look more professional (everyone can tell they’re blue light glasses)

Sodapop

CLASS: Pokémon Ranger

LOVES his job and therefore is almost always seen in uniform

he loves electric/steel type Pokémon cus they reminds him of cars, so his hair is usually sticking up because of static electricity 

has a whistle, but Darrel stole it and tossed it into the forest VERY early into the journey 

yellow is his favorite color cus I said so

Raichu is his PRIZED Pokémon 

He’s kinda like Snow White the Pokémon love him 

His Flareon and Johnny’s Espeon are best friends 

Darrel

CLASS: Veteran 

Wanted to be a football player, but couldn’t because that wouldn’t keep the family afloat, that’s why his outfit has the numbers on it. 

Lot of scars, some from football and some from his days as a trainer 

His outfit used to have sleeves, but he found them annoying and just shopped them off one day 

Always keeps the spare pokeballs on him 

In highschool he had his hair grown out, but chopped it after their folks died because his father was always trying to get him to cut it 

I don’t really have a backstory for his necklace, buts it fire okay

Treats his Pokémon VERY well, if there was a trainer rating website he would be top 5

Picks his Pokémon based on size and strength

Two-Bit

CLASS: CLOWN

Obviously he’s a clown so, that explains the outfit 

NEVER seen without the makeup, even when it rains or he’s sleeping…that stuff is ON THERE

He has false lashes on his waterline, and yes they’re pink 

He is incapable of being quiet because of all the bells 

The hat doesn’t come off. if it did his hair under there would be hella matted 

All of Two’s Pokémon are just as annoying as he is, he hides earplugs in his shoes for people (they never take them) 

FATASS can and will eat anything in sight

Mr.Mime is his favorite of all his Pokémon….they ate both annoying together and everyone hates them for it 

Johnny

CLASS: Channeler 

the scar on his eye is from his father 😬 from when he figured out Miyagi wasn’t actually training him to be the next member of the Elite Four…. the eye is blue because of some psychic shit idk 

His outfit is from Miyagi entirely, the sleeves used to be connected, but he found it too annoying to fight in those so he tore them (Miyagi was secretly VERY unsettled) 

If you look really closely he has purple eyeliner

Johnny refuses to cut his hair, so it’s usually in a braid to be out of his way, he lets it down sometimes 

He has the little flower charm connected to his belt…what a cutie 

His hood is actually up a LOT, most of the time his face is obscured 

There’s flames on his sleeve….wonder why (not the reason you think okay. His father was a fire type trainer…JOHNNY LIVES IN THIS AU OKAY.)

also the metal things around his arm are like…incredibly heavy. Mr.Miyagi put them in originally so he could build muscle while doing everyday things, but Johnny insists on keeping the on forever. 

Loves all of his Pokémon equally, and they love him back. Always has atleast one out of their Pokeball so he doesn’t get lonely….my baby 

He doesn’t even like the color purple that much it’s just kinda his thing now 

Pokémon FLOCK to this man 

Dallas

CLASS: Biker

Tore the sleeves off of his jacket as well…they really like doing that 

YELLOW teeth and GREASY hair he does not take care of himself

Really likes dog-looking Pokémon 

Has an empty slot because one of his Pokémon just DIED LMAO (idk which one. Oh well) 

Has rips in his jeans, does not plan on fixing it 

Hand-carved his belt buckle. The ‘win’ in Winston is underlined. Ignore the fact that this idiot keeps fucking losing 

The bandages are protecting nothing. He thinks it makes him look cool

Pokémon are revolted by him. Like, his own literally hate him. 

Steve

Class: Hooligan

kind of an ass, but he looks cool

any cutscene of him he’s making sure his hair is still spiked trust

loves steel type Pokémon because…cars

his favorite color is green, making any green Pokémon his all time favorite

for being a little shit, he treats his Pokémon rather well

has studs ALL over his back, once leaned back on Soda and has never heard the end of the pain he caused

he has a tongue piercing….so….

when the gang is lacking resources, he and Dallas are the first to steal

[purpiesaint]

To add to this Grindelwald treats his acolytes with a lot more respect than Voldemort treats his death eaters.

Look at how he treats Vinda. They clearly respect each other, and he values her. In contrast to how Voldemort treats Bellatrix. Yes he trusts her to keep his horcruxes safe but he doesn’t really respect her and finds her devotion to him irritating. Even slapping her in deathly hallows. The only death eater Voldemort seems to like is Snape. As well as this he forces them to call him Lord not even Voldemort but the dark lord showing that he is so much more above everyone else.

Gellert lets them call him by his name, he is above them of course but he believes they are all fighting for the same goal and cares about them to an extent.

Dangerous times favor dangerous men.

[jellymochii]

OT8 SKZ - What Kind of sub are they?

the sequel to dom!skz hcs

𐙚 pairings: ot8 sub!skz x fem!reader

𐙚 genre: SMUTTTTTTTTT

𐙚 cw: oh boy, where do I even start, dom!reader x sub!skz, cnc, pet play, dacryphilia, BDSM, oral (m and f receiving), shibari, masochism, mentions of knives, unprotected s3x (please don't), use of strap-ons, etc.

𐙚 wc: 2k

↪author's note: hello! sorry for procrastinating on this lol I'm still goin thru it. anyways this one contains some themes that may be nasty to some (like eating men out) so reader discretion is advised. Hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

Chan - Pleasure Sub

My sweet channie bug

He's totally obsessed with being your perfect little fuck doll

PLEASE use him and ride him whenever you want–even if he's busy in the studio, the others can wait.

Looooves when you ride him unprovoked. Feel free to take a seat whenever you feel like it. (Railway Reference lol??)

Even if he's overstimulated from how raw his cock feels from multiple orgasms, he'll always sit still and be your good boy!

“Fuck that's it baby, use my cock however you like.”

This is honestly such a good way for him to relieve stress too. Had a rough day at work? He'll flop into a chair and let you ride him for hours.

And his face is so so cute whenever he's about to cum. He gets all scrunched up with high pitched whines while he holds onto your love handles for dear life.

He's more than happy to let you manhandle him into any position you want for your pleasure–his thick cock can reach every single one of your spots without him even moving it!

Poor baby loves shutting off his brain after a rough day and becoming your brain dead little dollie~!

Subspace is so real and yet so sacred for him. He trusts you enough to treat him with respect no matter how rough you are–especially when he's oh so zoned out from pleasure and overstimulation.

Moral of the story–Chan would do anything to please you and let you use him to your heart's content–all out of love.

Lee Know - Brat

Just like in the previous parts–It's all a game to him.

And he is just soooooo stubborn about it too.

Likes to rile you up and tease you all day because he knows what's coming as soon as dinner is over.

Or, if he’s really misbehaving–you might just punish him then and there over the kitchen counter.

And this man is strong willed. It's gonna take a lot of patience to tame this man–and you're gonna have to do it over and over again each time.

He's decently strong and can handle any punishment you dish out at first, so be prepared to go for hours with him.

Your go to is to cuff his hands to the bottom of the bedframe and hover over him–forcing him to eat your pussy while you smack him if he refuses.

If he’s being extra bratty? Cuff his legs too and tie a vibrator to his dick and leave him there.

“Oh really? You think that's mmph–enough to break me?”

Or even worse, keep edging him with a fleshlight until tears start running down his face from the pain.

Eventually after many hours of smacking and edging, he'll go brain dead and obey your every command! Mindlessly eating you out and begging you to cum.

The worst part? He does all that teasing because of how much he loves being your little bratty whore.

Changbin - Pillow Princess

This one is kind of a hot take but

The man is exhausted. If he's not busting his ass in the studio he's pumping out any of his remaining energy at the gym.

You feel so bad knowing that he'll come home with a raging boner but no energy to do something about it.

That's where you, his sweet baby comes in!

Like Chan, you can ride him as much as you want and he'll take anything you give him.

Sometimes he just prefers to lay back and let you use your strap on him while he holds onto the pillow for dear life.

Eat him out pls!! It feels soooo good to him after a long day at work, and you don't even have to stroke him to make him cum if you do!

“Annngh~that feels so good, jagi.”

Eventually his grunts and moans will turn into high pitched whines when he's close, practically begging you to make him cum.

Binnie has a lot of trust in you in general, he's not used to being this vulnerable physically since he's usually perceived as the big and tough rock of the group.

But it's nice for him to come home and let out all of his emotions while cumming on your strap.

Pls treat him nicely he's gentle on the inside.

Hyunjin - Masochist

Hyunjin is by far one of the most loved idols in all of kpop. Everywhere he goes girls are dying for just a chance to touch his shirt.

But something about you treating him like shit in the bedroom (consensually) just makes him feel so alive.

He's always been the experimental type so when you suggested being the dominant one he was all for it, and over time his taste got more and more filthy–to the point he loved feeling pained.

His favorite position is being handcuffed on his knees while looking up at you with pleading eyes, as if he’s begging to be bruised and battered.

It starts out light–smacking him across the face and twisting his nipples, but his need for further stimulation made him into a starved man.

“More.” Is all he’ll say to earn a kick to his cock while your hand collapses over his throat choking him out.

The first time you ever did it he fell over in pain and…came.

Needless to say both of you were very surprised and he almost considered begging you to do it again right then and there.

His pain tolerance has gotten a lot better, which has made you have to get more aggressive in terms of choking–almost to the point where he’s turnt blue and about to pass out.

Even after you release, he’ll wheeze and look up at you while licking his lips and smirking in satisfaction.

He'd never dare tell anyone that despite his tough and charismatic exterior, he desires nothing more than to be broken down and degraded.

But hey, that's dopamine addict Hyunjin for you.

Han - Rope Bunny

Oh this man is nasty

Loves everything involving sex toys as it is, so when you brought up the idea of doing Shibari he was ecstatic.

And best believe he wants it all–being tied up, blindfolded, ballgagged, and edged to the end of eternity.

Acts so whiny and whimpery like he wasn't the one humping your leg an hour ago begging for you to tie him up and make him cum.

He loves the way your pretty rope designs highlight the best parts of his body ever so delicately. The ropes are so tight and snug around his wrists and ankles, making it impossible for him to move at all and make him feel helpless (he's never been harder.)

Poor whiny baby always begging you to let him cum with tears streaming down his face.

“P-Please, Mommy--I've been a good anghh boy, just please let me cum!”

He's so lost in pleasure he's begging for even just a taste of your sweet pussy to help him cum faster.

I'm a firm believer that he sticks his tongue out and pants like a dog when he's about to cum.

If you're feeling extra fun that night, you can even finger him or eat him out until his cock is spasming from how angry and red it is.

And yes, if it becomes too much for him he will squirt and probably be forced to clean it up later.

His orgasms are so pleasurable for him, he lives for this moment and loves enduring all that pain from being tied up just because of how amazing he feels after.

Felix - Service Sub

My sweet people pleaser lixie

You could tell him to steal a million dollars from Mr Beast and he’d be back in an hour with an extra 5 million.

The point is, he’d stop at nothing to please you.

It doesn't matter how kinky or nasty you’re feeling–he’s gonna deliver on his promise to do whatever you want.

You want him to eat you out for hours and make you cum? He’ll get as many orgasms out of you as possible. You want him tied up and pegged till he’s crying? No problem.

He's always watching your every facial expression attentively to see if there's any sign of satisfaction on your face.

“Mommy…do you like when I do that? I-I'm your good boy, right?”

And a good boy he is, always so doting and loving on you.

He looks up at you with his adorable boba eyes, even when there's tears in his eyes from overstimulation as if to say “You love me, right?”

Sometimes you like to toy with him by seeing how long he can go without cumming. You're often surprised by how long he can hold out, all for you.

Even with his angry red tip spasming from the lightest touch, the sheer overwhelming desire to make you happy lets him stop himself.

He's so sweet, please tell him what a good boy he is for you.

Seungmin - Puppy Sub

Ok so I know in the dom skz hcs I said that he's the one who enjoys treating YOU like a dog but hear me out–

I think it's fun for him both ways, he's the puppy of the group for a reason.

If he's feeling extra subby after a long day he'll put on his collar with your initials on it and snuggle up to you–signaling to you that he wants to let it all out.

Or if he's extra needy he'll crawl up to you on the couch and start humping your leg mercilessly like a dog.

The only difference is that he's not a bratty puppy like you, he's a sweet puppy!

He'll gladly eat you out for hours if it means he'll get his sweet release from you~

If he’s been extra mouthy that day and gotten on your last nerve, he’ll go in the very kennel he's so used to putting you in and have your vibrator tied to his tip while he whines and cries.

You’ll only let him out if he barks like a good puppy, of course.

“Mommy please! I've been a good puppy, I swear!”

You may as well just hold your hand out and let him rut his cock relentlessly into it.

He’ll get you back once he’s the dom though~

Jeongin - Prey Sub

All i gotta say is get ready to run, I hope you’re good on a treadmill.

There's nothing more exhilarating to Jeongin than the feeling of being chased through the woods by you, only to be caught and have his hole brutalized.

You talked this out extensively with him and made absolutely sure that this is what he wanted, and his face lit up with excitement.

You can even chase him down with a knife for extra adrenaline on his part. (pleeeease do not do this unless you know what you're doing.)

Even if you're just at home and you're feeling needy, he’ll look at you with a smug ass smirk and say “Oh yeah? You want me? Well, you better catch me first.”

It's almost comical watching him jump around furniture to “prevent” himself from being caught.

But that's not what he wants, he wants to be caught by you because he knows how good he's gonna feel underneath you–-so he'll run slower on purpose.

He loves feeling small and helpless underneath you (even when he's 10x stronger than you) and letting you use him like a whore.

He's typically face down ass up while you thrust unbearably fast with your strap, earning ungodly guttural moans and pleas of mercy.

The feeling of getting caught and ultimately punished for trying to run away from you makes his head fuzzy from all the primal urges swelling in his body.

And oh boy he could go for HOURS like that too.

It's all worth it to him at the end though, when he's soiled the sheets beneath him with layers of thick white cum.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:47 am]

(cw: wife!reader)

CEO!Johnny had been mad since the second he heard about this early meeting. That was a week ago. Well, not mad, more like pouty. For a few months now he’d gotten used to going into the office a little later so that he could have his mornings with you. Nothing too crazy, just a half hour later, but after all the hard work he’d put in for the company, he felt he deserved the half hour with his wife. The mornings were blissful, waking up and cuddling with you. Following that up with coffee and breakfast together and bidding each other goodbye with a kiss before heading in your respective directions.

But today, today felt like hell. He was up before the sun was coming up, waking up while bakers were still baking for the morning rush, while children were still fast asleep and in dreamland before going to school. Getting ready before you were even thinking about waking up. Hell, you were deep in rem sleep right now.

A part of him wanted to be selfish and wake you up. At the very least, to have your company. He wouldn’t force you out of the warmth of your shared bed. He just missed you… and today would be a long day. Going in early to talk to overseas investors and spending the rest of the day finalizing reports for the end of the quarter. He was already tired of it all.

Johnny dragged his feet while he sipped his coffee and willed the caffeine to kick in. He was bone tired. He had even stolen some of your under eye patches to help with the puffiness under his eyes. He sighed tiredly, tying his tie and fixed his hair one last time.

He turned off the light in the bathroom and padded across the bedroom to your sleeping form. He pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering a quiet, “have a good day, baby.”

He wishes he could say he felt accomplished since he had been awake so early and working almost as long. He talked to the investors, he got a lot of paperwork done, and he drank a lot of coffee. And still he didn’t feel good knowing his soft mornings with his wife had been torn away.

So it came it as no surprise when your FaceTime call came in at your usual wake up and get ready hour. He smiled brightly as his thumb slid across the screen to answer your call. He was met with your pouty face surrounded with the white sheets of your shared bed, “you didn’t wake me up.”

Johnny laughs, “baby, it was like 5 in the morning! Good morning though, how are you?”

“I dunno,” you grumble, “my husband doesn’t love me so…”

Johnny chuckles softly, slumping back in his very expensive desk chair, “I do love you. I love you so much that I didn’t interrupt your sleep. I did consider it though.”

“If you really loved me you’d have woken me up,” you argue playfully.

“I think you’ll love me when you see what I left you in the kitchen,” Johnny tells you, lifting his brows with a smirk.

He watches you move through the halls, hair messy and free. He watches your eyes light up when you saw the surprise he’d left for you. “Breakfast and coffee. Wow, I guess you do love me,” you tease, “thank you though, baby. I appreciate it.”

“I think you’ll also be happy to know that I’ll be home early today. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I will be. I deserve it after waking up at 4 in the morning."

"I don't think your secretary would approve of that," you chide, arching your brow a him through the camera.

"Well, she wasn't here at 5 in the morning was she? Plus, she'll like it when she gets to go home early too," Johnny yawns, "I'll pick up dinner on the way home, baby. Have a good day. You off to work?"

You shake your head with a smile, "nope, took the day off. I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too," Johnny responds before hanging up. Damn, he should have taken the day off too, especially since his CFO was more than capable of doing this on their own. He drags a tired hand down his face, he was definitely going to put in for a long vacation and it you off to some resort where you both could spend the whole day in bed if you wanted to.

[yumeka-sxf]

Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 6

Part 6 – Supporting character musings – Eden kids

In the first three parts of this post series, I talked in detail about how each of the Forgers' specific ways of speaking in the Japanese version helps shape their character. Now I want to analyze the supporting SxF characters in terms of their speech and see what traits we can infer. I'll discuss the Eden kids first, and then the supporting adult characters like Yuri, Fiona, etc, in the next post.

I'm going to start with Damian since I feel he has the most complexity in terms of what can be analyzed from his speech. While there's nothing about his speech that really stands out to me, at least compared to the Forgers, there's still little telling nuances based on his choice of words and honorifics. He uses casual speech for fellow kids his age, and polite speech for (most) adults, which is normal…I say "most" adults though because, while he uses keigo (the standard polite form of Japanese speech) for Eden teachers and the adults in his family, he doesn't use it at all during his first encounter with Loid. He even calls Loid おっさん("ossan"), which is basically "mister" but for middle-aged or older men, instead of 兄さん("niisan"), which is the same, but for a younger man akin to Loid's age.

Later, as Loid's goody-goody act gets on his nerves, his speech becomes a bit vulgar. He adamantly shouts that he "won't hang out with that peasant girl," using the "crude" conjugation of "won't be friends with/hang out with", 相手にしねー! ("aitei ni shine!") instead of the casual 相手にしない ("aitei ni shinai"). He even says うるせー ("urusee") which means "shut up" and is even more rude than うるさい ("urusai"). I'm actually surprised he let himself talk like that in front of Donovan. I suppose it shows how passionate he is about his "aversion" to Anya.

Speaking of Anya, he's never addressed her by name in the Japanese version, opting instead to call her, at best, the casual form of "you," "omae" ("お前") and at worst, some rude name like "temee" ("手前"), the derogatory form of "you."

When it comes to his family, he addresses Donovan and Melinda as 父上 ("chichi-ue") and 母上("haha-ue") respectively. These are more formal terms for the standard polite ones typically used to address your father and mother, "o-tou-san" (お父さん) and "o-kaa-san" (お母さん). For Demetris though, he's more casual. Not only does he use plain speech, but he also calls Demetris 兄貴 ("aniki"), which is a term of endearment, like "Big Bro."

He uses casual speech with Jeeves as well, which makes sense since Jeeves is a butler and thus "lower" than anyone in the Desmond household.

To me, all of this implies that Damian is a fairly normal kid in terms of how he addresses those around him, with the exception being his extreme formality with his parents. Terms like "chichi-ue" and "haha-ue" are mostly used in uptight, flatulent families, and obviously families like the Desmonds match that description. But it also shows how this is forcing Damian to rarely get the affection and bonding he craves from his parents.

As a side note, I don't have much to say about Bill and George, since they're such minor characters and nothing about their speech stood out to me in the few chapters they appeared in. But I found it interesting that they both call Damian "Damian-kun," with "-kun" in this case being an honorific to show endearment for a male equal, similar to "-chan" for females. However, Damian doesn't use "-kun" with any of the other male students, which is another indication of his comparatively standoffish personality.

Ewen and Emile speak similarly to Damian, using casual speech for fellow kids and keigo for adults. The exception with them, however, is that they address Damian with keigo as well. Not only that, but they call him "Damian-sama," which is unusual among friends their age. The honorific "-sama" is more humbling than "-san" and is often translated as "Lord" or "Master." I wonder what Damian has done to make them think so highly of him.

Moving onto Becky, she uses feminine speech in most situations. This speech is defined by adding softening interjections at the end of sentences, like "ne" (ね), "no" (の), and especially "wa" (わ). She also uses a variety of honorifics for the other characters. She calls Anya "Anya-chan," with "-chan" being a term that shows affection between female friends. She uses the feminine "I/me" pronoun "atashi" as well.

Because of her infatuation with Loid, she calls him "Loid-sama," with "-sama," as I just discussed, being a very polite honorific used for someone you're subservient to, or at least someone you look up to immensely.   

She's actually never called Yor by her name – at first she calls Yor 奥さま ("oku-sama"), which is a polite way of addressing someone else's wife, typically translated as something like "honorable wife." But after she sees how strong Yor is and "officially" decides to be her mentee (in her mind anyway), she calls Yor 師匠 ("shishou") which means "master" or "teacher" in a trainee to trainer sense.

But despite her high social status as a Blackbell, Becky uses the most childish terms for her mother and father, "papa" (パパ) and "mama" (ママ) respectively.

It's not uncommon for very young kids to address their parents in such a way, but it is ironic that everything else about Becky makes her seem like she wants to be more "grown-up" than she actually is, but she's still just a kid deep down, at least when it comes to her relationship with her parents.

<- Return to Part 5

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - Seven

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary at Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (sorry this took a while… as many of you know, we unfortunately lost my husband's brother before Christmas so my writing took a bit of a back burner. Lando's also cut two teeth so that's been fun. I hope this was worth the wait. Slightly shorter chapter this time but hopefully you all enjoy it ♥️)

Series Masterlist - One Two Three Four Five Six

You watched as Anna twirled her hair around her finger whilst she talked to Joel, practically eye fucking him. You wanted to walk up to her and rip the bangs from her head but, you also knew you didn't have any right to be jealous. You'd rejected Joel's advances. He had every right to move on.

But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you had hoped that he would wait for you. Hadn't he said that he would?

"The whole office can hear your murderous thoughts." Simon pulled you from your silent stewing session and you jumped a little in your chair as you looked up at him.

“They’re not murderous.” You argued, rolling your eyes at him.

“So you’re not planning her demise because she’s openly flirting with the man you love in the middle of the office?”

You choked on the sip of coffee you’d just taken and looked up at Simon with wide eyes.

“I don’t-“

“A blind man could see you’re in love with each other.”

You fumble for what to say. This is the man that you had dated for quite some time. The man you had lost your virginity to... and he's trying to talk to you about the man who'd, technically, been the reason for that relationship failing.

"Simon..."

"Don't worry, Pip." He said softly in an attempt to placate you "I was hurt for a while, sure, but to be honest... It was kind of a diskish move for me to make a move on you knowing how Joel felt."

"No... it was-"

"It was." Simon interrupted "It was but I just liked you so much and he didn't seem like he was ever going to make a move so I thought... Why not take my shot."

"I'm glad you did." You said softly and Simon smiled sweetly at you.

"I am too." He replied, "We had fun whilst it lasted... right?"

"Definitely." You replied, blushing furiously and Simon beamed at you.

"I know that you have stuff going on and I respect that you're taking time to recover from that before jumping into anything with him... but... Don't wait too long."

'Simon-"

"I just mean that life's short and we don't know when our number's up." He said, giving you a sympathetic look "Don't let your chance of happiness slip away."

You nodded and gave him a sweet smile as he winked at you and left. Leaving you to ruminate on what he had said to you. You weren't ready for anything yet but you also didn't want to lose Joel whilst trying to get yourself to the point where you are. You want to be with him and Sarah. To embrace that family you can still have, even without the baby you'd lost. You just needed to heal a little more first.

...

"You excited for the office party next week?" Asked Joel as your eyes scanned the shelves for the next food item on your shopping list.

"Sure." You reply, shrugging "I mean, it's a BBQ out in a constructors yard but..."

"We try'n make it pretty." Joel argues and you chuckle and roll your eyes at him.

"No amount of polishing can make a construction yard look pretty Joel." You snicker "But the food's always good so..."

"Exactly."

"You bringing Sarah?" You asked as you threw the item you'd been looking for into the trolley Joel's pushing.

"Of course." He grins, smiling at the little girl who's resting on your hip whilst you continue to read the list you'd put together.

"Wouldn't be the same without this little peanut." You said as you nuzzled her little cheek and grinned at the giggle this elicited.

"Mum said she's happy to take her home if I wanted to stay a little later but I expect I'll stay for some food and maybe a drink then head."

"Not wanna stay and party for a bit?" You ask and he shakes his head "Anna will be disappointed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joel asked, two lines forming between his brows as he looked at you and awaited clarification.

"She just seems pretty smitten is all." You replied, not looking at him as you spoke "She was telling me how she was hoping to get to know you a little better."

"Why are you telling me this?" Joel growled and you finally looked at him "You know I have feelings for you so why are you throwing this BS at me?"

"I didn't mean anythin' by it I just-"

"I told you I'd wait for you. Said that when you're ready for us to be somethin' more, I'll be here." His tone made your heart twist painfully in your chest as you waited for him to continue "Now you're telling me the new girl likes me... for what reason Pip?"

"I guess I was jealous and I wanted to know how you felt-"

"You know how I feel!"

"I know... I'm sorry." You choked back, trying not to upset Sarah who was watching you both with a concerned expression on her little face "I don't know what came over me."

"You don't need to worry about who I have feelings for Pip." He said softly and your shoulders relaxed a little "I love you Pip... and I will wait for you to be ready."

"I know... Joel, I'm sorry I just... I guess I'm scared that you'll get fed up of waiting for me to be ready and I want to be ready I do it's just..."

"I know Pip... I understand." He said as he stepped a little closer to you, pinching Sarah's cheek when she smiled at him and then yours "Just don't play with my feelings like that. Please..." He trailed off and you nodded, giving him an apologetic smile and grinning when he pulled you into a side hug "Right, what have we got left on the list"

.

Later that evening you were finishing the dishes when Joel came down, baby monitor in hand and a fresh t-shirt on.

"She pee on you again?" You asked, trying not to laugh.

"Who said women can't aim?" He asked as he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, something you hadn't noticed initially "Got me right in the face this time."

"Good girl." You chuckled and he bumped you with his hip when he came to a stop beside you.

"Careful." He warned with a smirk "We may fall out."

"Nah..." You say shaking your head "You love me too much." You freeze at your statement. Not because this was new information or anything but because you weren't sure how he would take the statement.

You looked at him gingerly, shoulders relaxing when you saw him smiling down at you sweetly.

"Yeah... I do."

You return his soft smile, looking away shyly before placing the final dried dish with the others. He helped you put everything, music floating from the radio sitting on the windowsill and you both bop and sing along to it. The whole situation was very domestic and you could not notice how right it all felt. Being here, doing such mundane chores. It all felt so natural, so right and it made you feel that little bit closer to being ready for this. All of a sudden, Joel grabs your waist and pulls you close, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts to dance with you.

"Joel." You chuckle and he grins at you "What are you doin'?"

"Can't a man dance with a pretty lady in his kitchen?"

You don't say anything then. You just let Joel lead, swaying from side to side as the song plays softly through the speakers. You rest your head on Joel's chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart. It was a perfect moment. One you never wanted to end. But nothing lasts, and Sarah's cries coming through the baby monitor brought your moment to a premature end.

"I'll get her." You said sweetly, heading upstairs where you take her sniffling form into your arms and rock her from side to side, smiling as she falls asleep in your arms.

It makes your heart hurt a little, knowing that you would have started to feel your baby move by now. You'd imagined lazy mornings in bed with Joel, his hand on your swollen belly as he felt the little life you were growling rolling and kicking under his hand. Sarah lying with you and trying to copy her daddy. It's an image you've imagined a lot lately. One that you know isn't completely out of the question one day.

When she's back down, you rejoin Joel downstairs, smiling when he hands you a hot chocolate with all the trimmings. Just the way you like it. Sitting next to him and watching the movie he put out you think to yourself that perhaps you're not so far off being ready for this.

...

Day of the office party...

You had to give the guys credit. They had done a pretty good job this time around of doing the yard up for the party. A tipi-style tent had been erected to give people a little shade from the hot Texas sun. Joel's father's large grill had been brought over and was cooking burgers, sausages and steaks, filling the air with a rich aroma of spices and such.

You sipped at your refreshing lemonade as Joel regaled the latest tale of Sarah being her vibey self, making all the other guys laugh as you bounced the baby in question on your knee. You loved listening to him talk about her. He was such a proud dad despite it being thrust upon him out of the blue nearly 6 months ago. He had come so far in that time. Taking fatherhood by the horns and thriving.

"She's so fucking cute man." Simon gushed as he glanced at you and then at Sarah "Think you'll have more?" He asks and you glance at Joel before looking back at Sarah.

"Oh yeah." Joel chuckled "A bunch more I hope."

You looked at Joel with wide eyes, noting the apprehension in his but also noting the hopeful smile he gives you too. This man wants to have more kids... and he wants them with you. It's written all over his face. You smile back, hoping it gives him some relief.

"What about you Pip?" Pipes up Calen and you try not to wince at his question. He doesn't know... you remind yourself.

"Sure." You reply, trying to play it cool "Someday."

"I'd love to have a whole bunch." Anna states suddenly and you startle. You'd almost forgotten she was sitting with you all.

"Well Joel... Maybe Anna's ya girl." Caleb jokes and you can't hide how your stomach sinks at the insinuation. You know you shouldn't feel threatened. Joel had told you only last week that he had no feelings for Anna. That he loves you... that he will wait for you.

"He knows where I am." Anna flirts and you feel sick.

"Food's up." Shout's Joel's father and you're glad of the distraction.

Everyone gets to their feet but Joel motions for you to stay put, it's then that you notice Sarah has dosed off on you.

"One of everything?" He asked and you nodded.

"You know it!"

.

The food was delicious, as it always is. You continue to talk about work and girls the guys have been dating. The trip Mr and Mrs Miller had recently taken with Tommy. How Tommy's talking about enlisting when he leaves school. How his father thinks it'll be good for him but his mother hates the idea. The day is turning into one of the best parties you've been to since starting at the company and you're so engrossed in the conversation that you didn't notice when Anna slipped off after Joel announced he was going to the bathroom.

After a short while, Sarah starts to get fussy, so grabbing her bag you make your way to the office kitchen so you can change her and prepare a bottle for her. Bouncing the fussy Sarah in your arms, you talk softly to her and try to console her. Stopping in your tracks when you come across Anna and Joel kissing by the main entrance. Your sudden stopping makes Sarah cry harder and that's what steals Joel's attention from Anna and brings it to you, his eyes widening when he sees you standing there. Tears streaming down your face.

Sarah's distressed cries pull you from your trance and you quickly sprint past Joek and Anna, trying to get into the building but Joel's hand on your elbow stops you.

"Let go of me." You growl but Joel held firm.

"Pip please."

"I need to feed YOUR baby Joel." You spit "So let. Fucking. Go. of me." You growl and he does.

You head in and try to keep your cool as you change Sarah and prepped her bottle. You heard Joel come in but chose to ignore him. You couldn't face him right now. Not whilst you were tending to Sarah.

"Pip."

"Don't!" You warn him and he lets out a shaky sigh "You're a fucking liar Joel."

"It's not what you think!"

You don't say anything. You just leave the room and sit on the couch in the breakroom so you can feed Sarah. It felt bittersweet now, feeding his baby after he'd just torn your heart on and stomped on it but she was innocent in this.

Joel said nothing as you fed his daughter. Just stood there silently and waited for you to finish. When you were done, you burped her and pulled her into your arms. Getting up to leave, you don't look at Joel, just walk past him as you make your way out of the office. You are met by a concerned Lucia Miller. She takes the baby without a word and walks back to the party and you stand there, your shoulders heaving as you await Joel's inevitable explanation.

"Pip." He pleads and you let out a shaky breath "Please look at me."

You finally turn and face him, your eyes greeted by a sobbing Joel Miller and for a moment your heart aches to comfort him... But then you remember why you're in this position.

"It's not what you think."

"Not what I think?" You scoff "So I didn't just witness you kissing Anna?"

"Well... yes but she kissed me." He urges "I swear to you! She caught me by surprise and then I heard Sarah cryin' and saw you and I..." He trailed off and your impatience grew.

"And you what Joel?"

"I froze."

"Fuck you." You growl and he sobs.

"Pip, please... I love you." He choked "I swear to you that I didn't kiss her."

"Yeah well... Your promises mean shit all to me, Miller." You growl, turning your back on him "You're a fucking liar and I want nothing to do with you."

"Pip." Joel sobs as he watches you leave, his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces "I love you." He whispers as you disappear out of view.

Everything was fucked now.

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[lilou0401]

Choi Seunghyun, let's not fall in love

Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader

Summary: G-Dragon's younger sister struggles to escape his shadow, yearning to be known for herself rather than as "his little sister." Her life becomes more complicated when she falls for his best friend, T.O.P, a charming gentleman she knows she can't have. The emotional tension peaks when she watches the band rehearse "Let's Not Fall in Love," a song that mirrors her forbidden feelings.

Warnings: a bit angst

Masterlist

You have always lived in his shadow. Being G-Dragon’s little sister isn’t as glamorous as people think- it’s a title you never wanted. To everyone else, you're just "his little sister," nothing more. No matter how hard you try to make a name for yourself, you're always overlooked.

You had to expect that he hardly has any time left, or that people would take pictures of you and follow you, but worst of all, that girls would try to suck up to you just to get closer to him. You've already lost so many friends because of this and it was exhausting.

But what made it worse was him- Choi Seunghyun. Your brother’s best friend. He’s kind, charming, a true gentleman… and completely off-limits. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop your heart from betraying you.

You hated yourself for it. For the way your chest tightened every time he smiled at you. For the way you catched yourself stealing glances when he was not looking. And for the way you imagined, just for a second, what it would be like if things were different.

But they were not. He was your brother’s best friend, part of the world you have been desperately trying to step out of. Falling for him wasn’t just wrong, it was impossible. You knew that.

But you still couldn't help but be proud of your brother, he has achieved so much in his life and he has done so with a lot of hard work. He and his friends have managed to grow together and they now called themselves Bigbang. You really had respect for them and had supported your brother all the way to this point, even if it meant suffering yourself. But there were also good things, you were invited to each of their concerts without having to pay anything, you were allowed to stand in the front row, and you were also allowed to watch them at practice and even give tips.

And that was exactly what you were planning to do, your BMW turned into the narrow street of the studio's driveway. To the left and right stood men in suits, shoulders broad, and serious looks. They nodded at you as you drove between them to your personal parking space that your brother had organized for you. The tires rubbed against the pebbles as you came to a stop, perfectly parked in the space.

Your eyes briefly wandered to your rearview mirror to check your lip gloss and mascara before you opened the car door, slipping out. You slammed the black car door behind you shut before you made your way to the entrance. Two more men were standing at the door, bowing to you as you smiled at them before they opened the door for you.

Gratefully, you walked past them and through the door, the cold air conditioning circling your face as you walked down the long hall to the stairs on the far right that leaded up to the studio, where your brother and the others were surely already located.

When you get to the top, you straightened your top before clearing your throat, pushing down the door handle. At first they didn't notice you and you took the opportunity to sneak in, your gaze gliding around the room. Your brother Ji-Yong stood with his back to you as he speaked to his manager, his hands moving wildly as he speaked. All the back dancers had sat down on the floor, some sipping their water bottles from time to time as they talked to each other.

Daesung was talking to a sweet looking girl who was also one of the back dancers, her hands clasped together as she told him something to which he nodded in agreement. You put your purse in the corner with the rest as your eyes wandered to the last two members of the band.

First, your eyes tried to ignore the obviously tall silhouette of the handsome man with white dyed hair as they wandered to Taeyang, who was pressing his hips against the wall, talking to the man in front of him. Although your gaze didn't even land on that person, your body seemed to have thoughts of its own, as your pulse increased in seconds and beads of sweat formed on your neck.

It felt like the walls of the studio room were getting tighter with every breath you took, almost crushing you as you looked down at the floor as soon as his head turned in your direction. Your fingers pulled through the cotton fabric of your top to distract yourself, because it felt like his eyes were drilling burning holes through your head.

"Stop panicking, he's just looking at you. Calm down, gosh." You whispered to yourself, your breath shallow as you shook your head before you looked up again, but deliberately not in his direction, but at your brother, who now also spot you. He gave you a small smile and gestured to the chair next to you for you to sit down before he turned back to his manager.

Nodding to yourself, you sit down on the chair, your body a little tense as you tuck the strands of hair that have fallen out of your high ponytail behind your ear.

"Alright let's start." Your brother's voice brought everyone out of their conversations, and immediately everyone got into position and you had to force yourself not to look in his direction, your eyes fixed on everyone else but him.

The studio was alive with music, the beat of Let’s Not Fall in Love filling every corner of the room. You leaned back against the wall, trying not to be seen, but your eyes were glued to them. To him. And you cursed yourself for not even having managed five minutes without looking at him.

Seung-hyun moved with such ease, his tall frame perfectly in sync with the others. Every step, every gesture, was deliberate yet natural, like he was born to do this. You could tell they were trying to capture the bittersweet longing of the song in their movements, the subtle push and pull, the hesitant touches that mirrored the lyrics so perfectly.

But then it happened. His eyes met yours. Just for a second, his movements faltered, barely noticeable to anyone else, but you saw it. And in that moment, it felt like the room froze. The way he looked at you, with something you couldn’t quite name, was it curiosity? Concern? Something deeper?- made your heart race.

You wanted to leave, to escape the intensity of it all, but your feet wouldn’t move. The choreography continued, each step tugging at your emotions, until you couldn’t tell where the music ended and your feelings began.

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest, you were sure everyone in the studio could hear it pounding. Your ears buzzed from the bass that resounded loudly through the room and a lump formed in your throat as you saw a emotion in his brown eyes, his hand holding his microphone at an angle in the air as he sang his lyrics into it, without even looking away from you.

Watching him move, his focus, his grace- it was all too much. For a moment, you thought he looked at you differently. But maybe that was just your heart playing tricks on you again.

It felt like everything you have been holding back threatened to spill over. The lyrics of the song took on another meaning, a much more serious one, and it hurt, it hurt to know that things would never work out between you.

You told yourself to look away, to break the moment before it consumed you. But you couldn’t. His gaze lingered longer than it should have before he turned back, falling back into the rhythm as if nothing had happened. Yet you knew he felt it too- the tension, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

The choreography became more intimate, the dancers moving closer, hands almost touching before pulling away. It was a perfect visual for the song’s meaning: love held at arm’s length, restrained by fear and doubt. It was heartbreak in motion, and every step felt like it was pulling you further into your own feelings for him.

You clenched your fists, trying to steady youeself. What were you even doing here? Watching him like this, torturing yourself with something that could never be. When the music stopped, the silence was deafening, and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

"Did you like it?" His voice startled me. His breathing was heavy from dancing, his dyed blond hair laid wildly on his head, he wore a blue shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and yoz noticed light eyeliner under his big eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him walking over, his face glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his usual confident demeanor softened. He wasn’t Ji-Yong's’s best friend in this moment, or a global star. He was just Seung-hyun. And that made it so much harder.

"It… it was beautiful." You stammered, your voice barely above a whisper and you scold yourself in your head for sounding so nervous

He smiled, that same warm, disarming dimple smile that always left you reeling. "Good. That’s what we’re going for."

You nodded, afraid that if you said any more, your voice might betray you. Because if he knew, if he even guessed at the feelings your were fighting so hard to hide, it would ruin everything.

There was a brief silence, your gaze on the floor, avoiding eye contact, while you still felt his eyes on your. He seemed to be analyzing you, as if he wanted to guess what you were thinking. And you prayed that he couldn't see how nervous his presence made you and how your palms were sweating, which you immediately wiped on your black leggings.

You heard him sigh softly before he sat down on the chair next to yours, his body turned sideways towards you, upper body leaning forward to be closer to you while his arm rested on the back of the chair. Your eyes widened momentarily before you forced your body to relax as you lifted your head and gave him a small smile.

His features softened as he smiled back, your eyes immediately going to his little dimple, your heart skipping a beat and you had to stop yourself from pocking it. Your mouth opened a crack before you closed it again, shaking your head, not even knowing what you wanted to say, but he seemed to do the job for you.

"You okay? You look a little uncomfortable." His voice is soft and his eyes wander down your face, searching for any discomfort. Your lips pressed together, unsure of how to respond, spreading your lip gloss accidentally. "Uhm... no, I'm fine, I'm just a little cold."

His lips curved into a smile as he watched you, his hand lifting for a moment before he slowly and carefully placed it around your chin, his thumb slowly running under your lip, his touch so gentle, and brushing away the now painted-over lip gloss from there.

Your lips parted in surprise, a shaky breath escaped you and a tingling sensation spread throughout your stomach. He paused briefly to look you in the eyes before his hand moved away and hung loosely down his side.

If you weren't mistaken, you could have sworn you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks, but you were sure your cheeks were twice as pink. He cleared his throat and with that the moment ended and you leaned back a little, your body still on fire.

Without thinking twice, his hands reached for his jacket, lined with warm fur on the inside, before he slowly placed it over your shoulders. Goosebumps spread across your arms as the fluffy fur brushed against your arms and immediately your fingers gripped the sides of his jacket so that it wouldn't slip off your shoulders when he pulled his hands back.

"There. It'll definitely keep you warm. Daesong turned on the air conditioning so we wouldn't faint from sweating during rehearsals." A short laugh escaped him, the sound music to your ears, as he leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his white hair.

"Makes sense." You replied with a grateful smile as you pulled the cozy jacket closer to you, the sweet smell of his perfume revealing your nostrils, possibly the only reason you pulled them even tighter. You would love to smell them all until his scent was the only thing your sense of smell could smell and he was the only thought in your head.

Before him or you could say anything else, one of the dancers called his name, pulling his attention back to the group. He gave you a small nod before turning away, leaving you sitting there, your heart racing and your chest tight.

You should have left then. You should’ve walked out of that studio, out of this situation, before your emotions swallowed you whole. But instead, you stayed. You watched as they started again, the music filling the space, their movements perfectly synchronized yet brimming with raw emotion.

This time, you focused on the choreography, trying to distract yourself. The way their hands reached out but never quite connected, the way their steps carried them closer only to pull them apart again- it was beautiful and devastating. It felt like a reflection of everything you were feeling, a silent reminder of the line you couldn’t cross.

But then there was Seunghyun again, moving like the song had been written for him. Every glance, every step seemed so effortless, yet you could see the focus in his expression. When he turned toward you mid-routine, his gaze landed on yours once more, and your breath caught.

It felt like he was dancing just for you.

You shook the thought away, silently scolding yourself for even thinking something so ridiculous. But when the music stopped again and the room filled with chatter and laughter, you noticed him walking back toward you.

"You’re still here, how long are you staying?" he asked, his voice low and calm. You shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s a good song. Hard to walk away from something like that." You began, before your gaze wandered to your brother, who was laughing at something Taeyang said to him, his head thrown back, and immediately your heart sank and felt heavier, guilt for allowing yourself to think like that about Seunghyun again making its way into your chest.

"Uhm well I'm waiting for Ji-Yong, he wanted to meet me for dinner after practice." You continued while exhaling deeply as you looked up to meet his eyes and you couldn't help but want to melt at the way he looked at you.

He smiled again, but there was something different in his eyes this time, something searching. "You’ve always been honest, you know that? It’s one of the things I like about you."

Your heart skipped a beat. What was he doing? Why was he saying things like that? "Thanks, I guess." You mumbled, unsure what to think of his sentence, your head lowered again, your fingers playing with the end of your top.

A deep laugh escaped him as he tilted his head slightly to the side, his hand came up to scratch the back of his head, a habit you often noticed him doing when he was nervous. "You're welcome, I guess."

You smile uncertainly at him as you slowly stood up from the chair, his jacket slipping off your shoulders, your hands caught it before it could fall to the floor and carefully placed it around the back of your chair before you slowly intertwined your hands and turned your head to Ji-Yong, who at that very moment finished his conversation with Taeyang and made his way towards the two of you with his signature grin plastered on his face, completely unaware of the tension lingering between you two.

Your heart was still racing, but you forced a smile, hoping Ji-Yong wouldn’t notice how flustered you looked. He throwed an arm around your shoulder. "I told you we are good, didn’t I?" He gestured toward Seung-hyun and the other members, completely oblivious to the moment he had just interrupted.

"Yeah" I murmured, my voice unsteady. "You really are." A small smile graced your lips, your breath shallow as you laid your head on his shoulder.

Seung-hyun cleared his throat, his expression now calm and unreadable. "Your sister’s a good audience." he said casually, addressing Ji-Yong. "She’s honest. You don’t get that a lot." His eyes wandered down to you for a moment, a small smile on his lips as he winked at you discreetly, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Ji-Yong grinned at him, clearly amused. "That’s because she’s not afraid to call people out. Don’t let her fool you- she’s tough." I managed a small laugh, trying to keep up the facade. "I’m not that bad."

Your body stood up straight again as your brother's arm slowly slipped from your shoulders, ruffling your hair playfully, completely unaware of the tension still simmering beneath the surface. "You’re worse than you think,” he teased, turning to Seung-hyun. “But hey, at least she’s honest, right?"

Seung-hyun gave a small smile, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long. "Yeah. She is." Ji-Yong didn’t catch it—why would he? To him, this was just a casual conversation, lighthearted and harmless. But to you, every word, every glance, felt heavy with meaning.

Sighing and feigning annoyance, you hugged yourself as you stepped aside to put some distance between you and your brother. "Stop with the honest thing, you're pushing it." You murmured, hoping to distract attention from you.

"Anyway," Ji-Yong continued, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and nudged you with his hip. "you should come by more often. You’re always saying you don’t get to see enough of what we do."

That was true, since Ji-Yong started with the songs, he was very busy and had hardly any time for anything else, including his family and that made our mom especially sad. "I might." You said softly, your mind still reeling.

Seung-hyun looked at you then, his expression unreadable but his eyes saying everything you didn’t want to hear. And as Ji-Yong continued chatting and laughing, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep pretending.

[kitts-mechanix]

Well Megatron brought the downfall on himself lol

All beautifully said! I feel TFOne especially touched on how friends can end up on either side. And not just with D16 becoming Megatron. Elita got the entire High Guard to be on their side and fight against Sentinel, only to team up with Megatron after he killed him. And like OP says in this clip from WFC I saw, when Bumblebee said he was no soldier, "Neither were any of us." They all had lives prior to the war. Which again TFOne is excellent at driving home.

Oh gosh....Starscream coming back and finding her dead, or seeing her cry....or they are elated to see each other again....

We all see that Megatron has a REALLY short fuse, especially when it comes to Starscream, but no one listens to him nor respects him. Is it because they fear Megatron that much? Or they just really hate Starscream?

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[imaroyalmess]

DPax first meeting

but from Jazz's POV

Wc: 853

Jazz knows D-16 on a technical level. The same as how he “knows” every clause to the evacuation code or how he “knows” transformation cogs—theoretically, if not a bit muddled, but never personally. They’ve exchanged short introductions, a nod of recognition as they pass one another, amicable small talk on the occasions they stand next to each other on the train.

More than anything, Jazz trusts D-16’s work ethic. That mech follows protocol with a precision that even Elita-1 hums in approval of and hey, the more energon they mine, the less the piss off the cogged supervisors, the better.

What can Jazz say? The bot’s a damn good miner and he respects that.

This particular solar cycle they’re rearranging their berths to accommodate the new crew and D-16 is, predictably, off to the side, eyeing potential placements for his Megatronus Prime decal. Jazz’s dermas quirks into a half smile and jogs over.

“Hey, need any help there?” Jazz slaps D-16’s shoulder plate and D-16 pivots so the tips of Jazz’s digits only scrape the area lightly.

“I’m fine,” D-16 insists, optics flickering to Jazz in a brief acknowledgement before returning to the decal in his servos. “Are you—?”

Jazz grins. “Checking on you? You could say that. Or I’m making sure you don’t eat the newbies spark first, does that sound better to you?”

D-16 shakes his helm, Jazz’s signal that he’s reached his socialization quota of the day. He points at the decal. “Tilt it a little that way. It’s a bit—yeah, that’s it! Now it’s perfect.”

Jazz automatically reaches out to tap D-16’s shoulder plate again—habit from all his other comrades.

“Don’t,” D-16 warns. “You just fixed it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” Jazz throws his servos up in surrender, smirking grin still in full effect. “I’m over here if ya need anything. And you’re welcome.”

D-16 grumbles low enough that it can’t reach Jazz’s audials—probably either a curse or a thank you, there’s no telling with that one. Jazz strides off to his own berth, plain save for a data pad full of comics stowed away in a side pocket. Perhaps his name would fit across the sides…he’ll have to swipe some cosmetic paints to make it happen but wouldn’t it be cool?

“—the coolest.”

Taken aback, Jazz whirls around only to find that the mech wasn’t addressing him at all. The blue and red newbie is grinning, the corners of his intake almost splitting his face plate wide open. Which, woah, that’s a lot, but what’s even more woah is how he’s speaking with D-16…and D-16 is smiling back? 

“No fraggin’ way,” Jazz’s vocal chip comes close to short circuiting.

“You know,” D-16 begins, verging on chipper, “Sentinel says that Megatronus was—”

“—the strongest Prime to ever live,” the two of them complete together. The newcomer chuckles, followed in suit by D-16, dear Primus, Jazz has to sit down. This cannot be real.

“Orion Pax,” the other bot says, extending a servo.

“D-16.” He accepts the shake.

One of Jazz’s friends attempts to interrupt. “Hey, Jazz—”

Jazz cannot miss one klik of what’s unfolding so he waves an arm out. “Not now, not now.”

“So, you ever mine energon before?” D-16 inquires and that’s— D-16? Asking a question with the intent of getting to know a mech? It’s about work, which Jazz notes to discuss with him later, but it’s progress. Jazz is in equal parts proud as he is insulted.

“No, you?” Orion Pax asks back. His optics, very blue optics Jazz can see even at this distance, turn to D-16, that all-too-easy smile softened and blinding.

D-16 is as struck as Jazz is. “...no.”

Scratch that. He’s much more struck than Jazz is. Jazz forces a shut down to his voice box before the cackle can ruin their moment. What in all of Primus’ glory is D-16 thinking?

“I hear it’s dangerous,” he tacks on.

D-16 must be glitched. There’s no way he isn’t when his rank is splayed clear across his chest plate. Jazz takes all his pride back, shoves it deep within his spark and bites down on his glossa instead of slamming his helm into his berth several times. 

Orion Pax truly must be new because his optics don’t process the ranking badge at all. “Well, how about this? You watch my back and I’ll watch yours?”

A servo stretches out in a loose fist, waiting for an answering bump. Good and honest, and Jazz crosses his spark that this happened, D-16 beams. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Sounds good…Pax.”

The two of them tap their fists together—which delights Orion to no end by the looks of it. It’s touching, if it weren’t for the fact that D-16 is the worst flirt in all of Iacon. Oh, he’ll deny it once Jazz approaches him but Jazz has two working optics, a fully functional processor, and a propensity for intruding.

Jazz sets a reminder in his HUD to teach D-16 how to flirt with his little Orion. Properly. In a way that doesn’t involve lying. Maybe he’ll get a proper thanks from D-16 then.

(Probably not.)

based on this tweet i saw a few days ago and couldn't stop thinking about D-16 straight up LYING

[fox-guardian]

Sorry for asking out of the blue but do you happen to have a description or doodle or something of how Curly would look in progression to being infected in the zombie au? I'd love to see the thought process to how you think it would go!! no pressure if not of course but I'd love to hear you yap about it C:

had some epiphanies while crafting this one HEHEH

[ID: A timeline of six sketchy digital drawings of Curly from Mouthwashing suffering from a zombie infection with notes next to each. Each drawing has a headshot of him, and a featureless full-body showing infection's spread next to him. He gets increasingly bluer and sweatier, and blood starts to pour out of his mouth, nose, and eventually ears. He loses teeth, an eye, and his tongue by the end. His expressions go from nervous and saying "FUCK!" in the first, to pouty, then uncomfortable, then agonized, and finally blank rage. end ID]

[Image transcript:

1-2 days: minimal damage burning sensation in mouth and throat

3-5 days: tummy hurts, increasingly horrible shits, vomiting, burn spreads and intensifies

5-7 days: fever, tummy hurts worse, bloodstream gets affected, The Eternal Burn truly begins

Week 2: rest required, all prior symptoms worsen, tooth loos, weight loss, vocal chords dissolve, loss of coordination

Week 3: surface wounds appear, "erratic" behavior, involuntary twitches and spasms, all bodily fluids burn, tongue loss, potential for self harm raises significantly

Week 4: Kill's 99.9%! All day FIRE FRESH!

end transcript]

~~~~

curly's infection rate is much slower than most due to his own natural resistance and the fact that he only consumed the faintest trace of mouthwash so all this would happen much faster for the others. by the time we see daisuke and swansea again after their respective infections, they're already at the final stage. curly looks especially out of it there but that's just because of Event Reasons

(also he would very much be wearing a face mask after his initial infection but obviously i wanted to show all the details so ye)

it is very late so i cannot yap much rn but ask any and all questions you have pweeeease i will answer them Later <3 i need to go beddy bye <3